


#90 Don't Threaten Me with a Good Time

by shineexofest



Category: EXO (Band), SHINee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood, Drug Use, Minor Character Death, Suicide, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-13 00:34:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11748426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shineexofest/pseuds/shineexofest
Summary: Prompt #90: On his way home from a party world-renowned vampire hunter Jongin stumbles upon someone perched precariously on a bridge and in a skewed sense of heroics winds up hurdling towards the death he's been chasing since the loss of his partner. Taemin, heir to the largest of Seoul's vampiric clans, just wishes to regain some sense of humanity before he can die by the morning's light.





	#90 Don't Threaten Me with a Good Time

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you prompter for sparking something in my imagination that I haven't felt in a long time. I hope that this fic does your prompt justice (and that there aren't too many typos)!

****Eternity is a curse. Taemin thinks this endlessly (eternally).

 

What good is being an heir to the undead? The question plagues him honestly. And though he would never wish ill on his maker, Jinki’s longevity removes any chances of Taemin inheritance. Not that he really wanted inheritance either. He doesn't… have dreams anymore. Not after a long time.

 

He just wants to go _somewhere._

Taemin slips out quietly that night, gliding between the shadows of skyscrapers on his way towards the river. His eyes catch note of every human running to meet friends or clamoring to get home and call it a night. They’re all so carefree despite the risks of _vampires_ and he can’t help but feel jealous. At least taking risks is fun when there’s something to risk. Taemin gave that up long ago.

 

He plans to take it back tonight.

 

✖️✖️✖️

 

His chuckles, unceremonious and incessant, fill the empty night in soft puffs of air from his lips. Jongin doesn’t know what he’s laughing at exactly, but he’d be damned if it isn’t the funniest thing he’s encountered in his whole life. His head is swimming in substance. He lost count around the second bottle of soju and third hit off a pipe (joint) from Moonkyu. Was it Moonkyu’s? Jongin slows his steps as he tries to think through the fog. Not that it matters. After the sun sets nothing matters.

His palm finds purchase against the cool brick wall of his former favorite restaurant, guiding him around the corner and onto the final home stretch. He’s weighing his options- he put a lot of BB Cream on before going out that probably needs to be washed off, but who is he seeing anyway and so what if his skin breaks out that’s what the BB Cream is for anyway and—Jongin’s steps slow. There’s something in the distance he can’t quite make out no matter how hard he squints at it. It looks like a blob, poised on the ledge of the Banpo Bridge but as it gets closer he starts to notice distinctive features. Long legs. Broad shoulders. Sharp profile. And no wings so it’s definitely not a bird.

“Hey!” Jongin shouts, dragging his feet a little faster towards the shadow. “Hey it’s not safe up there!” When the figure doesn’t move Jongin tries for the direct approach. He’s already made the incline from ground level and is dead set on stopping this man from making the mistake that Jongin all too often talks himself out of as well. “Hey, come on you don’t need to do this. At least…uh, I don’t know look at me? Talk to me?”

He wraps his fingers over the railing and hoists himself up. His perception is dizzy, even in the adrenaline rush of saving someone’s life. He feels like he’s swimming through a thunderstorm. The lightning tattoos on his biceps are practically sparking, and the hairs on his arms stand on edge. The sun wheel on his shoulder blade also make a ruckus that Jongin shakes off. No matter the amount of shit in his system, Jongin never gets used to the aftereffects. So he brushes off the persistence of his wards and continues forward towards the other man. “Seriously I’ll even buy you some ddukbokki if you want just-”

As his foot slips from the narrow railing Jongin’s sure he feels his heart in his throat. His eyes go wide, looking now upwards at the stranger; watching the shadow grow smaller. He can make out more details. Like a sharp jaw line, a head of beautiful blond hair, large, striking eyes, a crooked nose not unlike Jongin’s own. _‘He’s stunning,’_ Jongin thinks, and reasons maybe it’s not the worst last sight in the world.

The impact is swift and in the same amount of time it takes Jongin to gasp his lungs are already swelling with water.

He wonders, _‘Will your soul find mine even if we part differently?’_

 

✖️✖️✖️

 

Jongin awakes in a violent coughing fit. His body working hard to reject the invasion despite most of his airway now being free. _‘A dream,’_ he decides, _‘it had to be a dream.’_ He’s still hazy from the drug use and this isn’t the first time he’s dreamed of death. He forces himself upright and notices a bedpost that isn’t his, walls that feel foreign, and a scent that doesn’t faintly remind him of fried chicken.

He’s not home.

“You’re awake,” A soft voice calls from an adjacent room. While there’s no grease in the air Jongin’s nose does detect coffee slowly wafting through the open bedroom door.

 

“Y-yeah…” The buzzing across his ink is back with a vengeance. Jongin shoves all of potential concern down to the furthest reach of his gut and falls back into the blissful ignorance of lingering drunkenness; and the impending hangover. “Where am I?”

“My apartment…Oh that’s vague huh?” The stranger laughs, “On the eastern sector of the Gangnam district.”

“Ah,” Jongin is trying to calculate the distance between this place and where he needs to be when the other places a warm mug between his palms. Keying into the look scrawled over Jongin’s face he comments, “We’re maybe 20 minutes from the bridge if you’re wondering.”

Now that he was in the lamp light, Jongin can make out those same features that had lulled him into a secure death however many hours ago. He glances to the blackout curtains over the window, no luck in determining if the sun was up or not, how many hours had passed, then settles his eyes back onto the other male. He’d handle this mystery first.

“And you are?”

“Lee Taemin. Pleasure,” He bows slightly before offering his hand. Jongin takes it, noticing the layers of formality in Taemin’s speech that seem to go beyond just general pleasantries between strangers. Also his hands are cold.

“Nice to meet you, Kim Jongin,” he remarks. His body is screaming at him. Electric sparks from the lightning bolts and a blaze from the sunwheel at his back. _‘Guess that’s what happens when you almost die…’_

“And I ended up here because?”

“When I saw you slip I immediately ran down to get help! Do you think I was just going to watch you die in front of me?” There is a laugh on Taemin’s lips. The situation is completely not funny. Yet Jongin laughs too.

“You’ve got some quick reflexes.”

Taemin’s eyes glisten in response. “You have no idea. Anyway,” Taemin continues after a beat, “After we managed to pull you ashore I bought you here to get you warmed up.”

“You know a lot about medicine?” Jongin interjects.

“Just standard, what they teach you in the military.”

Jongin remembers that training well enough; his army knowledge heightened after years of working in Special Operations.

“Well…thanks. For saving me.”

 

“I should thank _you,”_ Taemin chuckles again and Jongin drunkenly decides it sounds nice. “You’re the one who tried to save me.”

“Taemin-ssi, why were you up there? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Taemin’s gaze drops from Jongin’s and to his own untouched mug of coffee. “One of those days I guess.”

Silence stretches between them but Jongin doesn’t question. He gets it. He’s had those days.

 

“Well I’m glad we’re both alive.”

That pulls a louder laugh from Taemin’s lips. “ _Alive!”_ He repeats, “Yes, I agree. I’m grateful.”

He settles back in his seat and blatantly gives Jongin a once over. Jongin realizes then that he’s still in his clubbing clothes. A tight black shirt with slits in the shoulders, even tighter jeans, hair coiffed up to perfection before the near-death experience, and (most strikingly), a mess of hickeys and glitter littering his neck after Taehyun had turned him away and he settled with Junhyuk to get his fix. At least the track marks aren’t visible.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Jongin jokes through a shit-eating grin, shifting uncomfortably for all the wrong reasons. He’s not as weirded out by the stranger checking him out as he should be. In fact, all discomfort is coming from his groin and he’s really certain he shouldn’t stay lest he jump his savior. He brings the coffee to his lips and watches Taemin’s lips part with his laughter.

“I’m not that bold,” Taemin replies with a shake of his head. “Or…not yet,” A smirk. “You’re welcome to stay here as you need. I can let you rest.” The blond gets up from the edge of the bed and turns back towards the door.

Jongin struggles to detangle himself from the sheets and follow. “’M alright,” he mumbles, focus on the blankets pooled around his feet. “I need to get back to let the dog out anyway.”

“Dog?”

“Friend’s dog. He’s in my care for the weekend. Probably shouldn’t be gone too long.” Jongin’s rambling and catches himself in the act too late.

Taemin just shrugs. “Whatever you need to do. You’re welcome to stay or go just be _careful._ ” He isn't blind to the way Jongin shuffles away from the bed as if uncertain his legs can handle his weight. “Wouldn’t want you falling off any more bridges.”

There’s a weak laugh in return as Jongin downs the rest of his cooled coffee and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. He does a quick check of his pockets—keys in the right back, vape in the front left, phone--… phone…

“Fuck,” he groans under his breath. His phone, if not left in the club, wouldn’t have married well with the water.

“Everything alright?” Taemin asks. His full attention has turned back to Jongin and there’s a weird glint in his eye. Something like…concern?

“Yeah. Just…my phone is somewhere. Probably at the bottom of the lake, it’s cool,” Jongin cracks a wry smile in the face of Taemin’s uncertainty and starts back towards the door. The substances are finally letting out of his system. He can feel the jitters of the aftermath and the weight of the hangover creeping in on the edges of his mind and he wants to get home first. Maybe drown them back down in another bottle of beer. His body seems restless in this place anyway. “Thank you again, Taemin-ssi. And hey, if you have another night maybe…uh I don’t know, call someone instead?”

“You don’t have a phone,” Taemin chimes back lightly.

Heat tinges his cheeks, making Jongin grateful for the low light of Taemin’s apartment in hopes that it hides his blush. “Well…maybe when I get another one. I-…I’ll be going.” He slips out before he can stammer his way into a situation he knows he shouldn’t be in. Taemin’s advances aren’t entirely unwelcome to Jongin’s drunken consciousness. But he’s sobering fast and knows he can’t just let himself fall for a pretty stranger who was about to throw himself off a bridge.

He never meant to be a hero in the first place.

 

✖️✖️✖️

 

Jongin wakes again to a banging on his apartment door. There’s a groan on his lips as he hoists himself up off the couch he’d chosen to pass out on and strolls across the hardwood floor to see who’s disturbing him on a God damn Sunday.

It was about an hour after sunrise when he arrived back at his own place. He’d managed to swing a quick walk to the end of his walkway and back with Vivi, drop some food in his bowl, before collapsing. Had he been given his way he wouldn’t have risen until at least sunset. His co-workers used to tease that he was not unlike the vampires he hunted. He’d always retort that’s how he got so good at his job.

“The fuck is…” He muttered, fingers finding the cool metal of the knob. “Vivi, down! Vivi wait! G-get back from the door…”

Droopy eyes and a deadpan expression met him on the other side. “Morning,” Kyungsoo chuckles, looking between the struggling puppy and his owner for the weekend. The faintest smirk cracks his usually stoic lips and he steps inside uninvited. “I’ve been trying to call you for an hour.”

“Lost my phone,” Jongin mutters, scratching the back of his neck while he foot nudges the door closed. Then he puts Vivi back down. “Don’t know where it us. Probably bottom of the Han River.”

“Go for an early morning swim?” Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow.

“Something like that. Why are you here?”

 

“Not going to offer me any coffee? You’re a terrible host.”

 

Jongin grunts expletives under his breath as he reaches under his counter. “Catch.” Kyungsoo’s reflexes are faster than a sobering Jongin’s and he snatches the flung water bottle out of the air with ease, twists open the top, and drinks in one fell swoop. “Maybe you should be a water commercial model.”

“Hunting vampires suits me better. Speaking of… did you really have to lose your phone this week? You scared the shit out of me.”

“Do you not trust me? I’m not that easy to kill.”

“Jongin you can talk all the game you want but we’ve lost three hunters in the last six months so we really can’t be careful enough. You’re not still going on your binges are you?”

“Whatever would give you that idea?” Jongin’s smug as he pops open the tab of the beer he just fished from the fridge. His eyes never leave Kyungsoo’s.

“Drinking at noon? Classy,” Kyungsoo heaves a sigh and continues. “Jongin, we need to get you a new phone and a new partner. There are too many rogues running around for us to just fuck around like this. Come back into the force. Full-time.”

Kyungsoo’s bunching his sleeve up at the elbow, exposing the delicate ink of his serpent ward wrapped around his forearm; a protective charm to maintain silence even in the face of Vampyric charms. It’s a nervous habit of his; as if revealing his markings makes him a stronger man. Jongin sometimes wishes Kyungsoo would remember that he’s head of their unit for a reason. Wishes that he didn’t take every single loss personally.

“I don’t know, Kyungsoo. I don’t think I’m cut out for full-time work anymore. I’ve spent all of my 20s on the team, don’tcha think it’s about time an old man like me looks for something else?”

“I’m older than you. Stop talking like turning 29 means you’re approaching the end of your life cycle.”

“Hey, in our field you never know,” Jongin tips his beer Kyungsoo’s way and sips.

“Without us more of the innocent are going to die. We need to find the source of these rogues. Need to end it before it really starts. To do that we need _everyone_ on our team. You need to come back.”

“I’m partnerless,” Jongin says bitterly.

“So is Wonshik. He wants to work with you.”

Jongin snorts. “Don’t bullshit me. Wonshik doesn’t want to work with anyone.”

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. “See? So you two are perfect for each other. Look, come in tomorrow and decide after you’re back in the force. You and I both know this 9 to 5 shit doesn’t suit you. You can barely wake up at 9. I’ll see you at 7PM tomorrow.” The shorter male shuffles past Jongin and out the door, leaving him no room to protest.

Afterwards Vivi comes bounding up to him, begging to go outside. Whether it’s to follow Kyungsoo or the need to pee Jongin isn’t quite sure but he makes the poor pup wait until he’s sure Kyungsoo’s car is long gone from his apartment parking lot.

“What would you do?” He asks the little bichon. “Think I should go back?”

Vivi lets out a yelp towards a rustling in the bushes. He tugs eagerly on the pink leash in Jongin’s hand, rearing and ready to attack whatever lies beneath the shrubbery.

 _‘If a dog can have this much fight…’_ Jongin muses, _‘maybe I can too.’_

 

✖️✖️✖️

 

He ignores the 8am alarm, not unusual, in lieu for a noon one and heads into the office at 7PM sharp.

Wonshik is perched on his desk, stacks of file folders bookending him. His buzzed black hair stands out starkly when Jongin remembers the bright blondes and blues he used to boast. And he’s chewing on a toothpick, eyes locked on the door in anticipation of Jongin’s entrance.

“Welcome back,” he smirks, breaking the pick with his back molars. “Finally ready to get what you deserve?”

Revenge never meant much to Jongin. Losing Chanyeol weighed too heavily on his heart for Jongin to muster up any anger and he preferred the silence of solidarity, with the occasional late night fuck-around. Wonshik was the opposite. Since Hongbin’s massacre (and boy, even Jongin would admit that “massacre” might be a bit of an understatement) Wonshik was bloodthirsty. Where Jongin was reckless with his recreations Wonshik became reckless with work. Hordes of rogues fell at Wonshik’s stake, his vengefulness insatiable—not until he finds  the man who took Hongbin from him.

Wonshik and Jongin were similar in one way. They both failed to follow the number one rule on the force: don’t fall for what you can easily lose.

Jongin shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs. “I’m here for a paycheck if we’re being truly honest.”

He can tell Wonshik isn’t please with his answer by the way he clenches and unclenches his fists at his sides. “That kinda attitude will get you killed,” he replies carefully, projecting a challenge Jongin’s way.

“Lots of things will get me killed. Vamps are just one of them.” Jongin turns to Jongdae, the short-haired intern-turned-new-hire who is tapping field reports into his laptop. Jongin addresses him uncomfortably, since Jongdae is his senior in age despite Jongin’s seniority in position. “Jongdae-ssi, where’s Kyungsoo?”

“Not coming in today, boss,” Jongdae’s eyes take a quick break from his screen to glance up to Jongin (but his fingers never stop). “He gave your assignment to Wonshik.”

“That son-of-a…” Jongin mutters. He can imagine all too perfectly the smug look on Kyungsoo’s face. He successfully lured Jongin out of his hole and hardly has to deal with the consequences. Damn bastard.

Jongin runs his hands over his face a few times before turning back to his new partner. “So what’s the deal? What’re we doing?”

Wonshik fills him in on the details. Batches of rogues have been popping up all over the southern and western quadrants of Seoul. They operate differently from one another, indicating two different but strong factions. They also don’t seem to be engaged in inter-factional conflict. Victims discovered in the south are marked by different sets of fang marks over both sides of their neck and wrists; typically drained dry by no fewer than four vamps. The bodies are often found behind alleys and in dumpsters. Rogues in the west prefer the more traditional route of crucifying their victims after death. Leaving bloodied bodies dangling in public places, it’s both a brag and a threat to people in the area. These seem to be less for sustenance and more of show.

“But what’s more concerning,” Wonshik continues, flipping to the final page of the report, “are these repeated incidents in the east…” He points out the 5 red dots juxtaposed the otherwise black and white city map. “These have been all of the fledgling turns in the last 3 weeks. Five noted. Bled almost dry, force fed vamp blood and then abandoned to the grips of bloodlust. These five alone have accounted for at least 25 noted deaths in the area.”

Wonshik’s jaw is tight, Jongin notes. Hongbin fell to a similar fledgling, pulled apart until his dental records were all that could identify him. Jongin doesn’t blame his current anger.

“We’ve been trying to enlist the help of the SPD but Junmyeon’s wary to send too many untrained men into the fray and let’s be real, all their ‘codes’ and ‘rules’ really make the work we do difficult.”

Jongin grunts in agreement then pulls his eyes from the file and to Wonshik. “So, what’s the game plan? South side seems like a bunch of club kids gone wrong, honesty not too worried comparatively. Even Junmyeon could probably take them on. West is a bit messier but if people are smart enough to follow curfews and not invite vamps into their home I feel like some of these deaths could be avoidable… It’s the east we should be worried about.”

“Good work, Sherlock. Never would’ve guessed.” Wonshik’s lips are pulled thin, like he’s annoyed that Jongin even considered wasting time making obvious observations. “We’re heading east tonight so get your best club look together because we’re about to entice some motherfucking bloodsuckers.”

It takes Jongin significantly less time to club himself up than it does for Wonshik. He’s in the same slit-sleeved top as the other night with brighter colored jeans and combat boots completing the look. Wonshik struggles a little bit more with lining his eyes and picking an appropriate shade of eyebrow pencil. Jongin moves to help but is promptly pushed away. Wonshik (the homebody who never really liked going to anything other than underground hip hop shows) was fussy even when Hongbin tried to help him with makeup. Jongin should’ve suspected to be turned away.

“Wouldn’t a club hunt be better suited for the south?” He asks as they approach Wonshik’s beat up patrol car. “It didn’t look like too many of these rogues are turning drunk partiers.” There had been a child in their victim mix; a little girl who made meals of her whole family before the SPD staked her.

“We have to start somewhere,” Wonshik shrugs his seatbelt on.

Jongin takes a moment of pause when it clicks. Not many people are going to be out on a Monday night besides club crawlers. These would be the best parts of town to find a concentration of victims. The fact it took him so long to get there makes Jongin think he isn’t as cut out for this as he used to be. He could really use a drink.

Fortunately, his prayers are answered once they find their seats at the half-full bar. Wonshik orders them two shots of whiskey. Usually they go through about four or five—at least three over the shirt and one down the hatch. Jongin wouldn’t mind upping the total but he’s on a mission. They just need to smell like alcohol, not be fucked by it.

The burn of his drink crawling down his throat is a welcome reprieve from the lingering anxiety latched around the corners of his mind. Once upon a time Jongin had ‘Kenaz’ etched behind his right ear to quiet his nerves but he found that it made him too calm. He needed that anxious alertness if he wanted to survive—or at least while sober. He had Xiumin remove the ink afterwards, leaving a scar of the rune that Jongin would touch periodically out of habit. He touches it now. Waiting…

He and Wonshik make minimal small talk. They’re both more focused on inconspicuously pouring alcohol over themselves.

Soon they perk up, simultaneously, the matching brand of a pocket watch telling them someone is near. Jongin’s sunwheel also starts to burn slowly, light but aware. “Let’s go,” he mouths to Wonshik, putting down a bill for their tab and then some. They move carefully from the bar stools, stumbling just the right amount, laughing and latching their arms around each other while steadily moving towards the exit. Jongin lets Wonshik go, eyes crinkled into crescents as he laughs at a joke no one told. Wonshik slips out first, Jongin on his tail. Until he turns and walks straight into someone.

It’s not the worst thing to happen—definitely adds to the illusion of his drunkenness—but Jongin momentarily flounders somewhere between trying to keep his act up, apologizing to the stranger, and hurrying to meet Wonshik.

“Jongin?”

He straightens, eyes alert and had cocked. Who knows him in the East End?

“Funny seeing you here,” Taemin smiles up at him and Jongin suddenly feels unsettled for a number of reasons. He decides the main one is because he wasn’t expecting to see his (very cute) rescue only a few days after his attempted suicide.

“Y-yeah, wow. Never would’ve pegged you as the type Taemin-ssi.”

“What type _do_ you think I am?” Taemin asks with a sharp smile that reminds Jongin that they don’t know each other at all. It also entices him more than his sober mind would like to admit. He hasn’t flirted in a while…

“The coffee-making, bridge jumping type?” Jongin asks with a wary-sounding laugh, unmoving when Taemin reaches a hand out to touch him. They’re about to make contact (heaven help Jongin) when the sun on his shoulder goes ablaze and his watch is practically ticking in his head. Right, ‘ _Wonshik.’_

“Sorry, I have to run. My friend wasn’t doing so well and he just took off.” He clasps his hands around Taemin’s, a brief and apologetic gesture, accompanied by a spark of power shooting through his veins, and hurries off immediately when his wards only grow worse. He rounds the corner of the bar where Wonshik stands with a stake in his hand and a look ready to kill. Jongin glances around the alleyway and doesn’t see any ash.

 

“Find anything?” He asks softly. He approaches Wonshik in a way that shields him and his weapon from any potential onlookers.

“Thought I got something, saw a shadow move but it was gone too fast.”

“Moved away from you?”

“Seems so.”

“Did you get a look at it?”

“None.”

Jongin gives Wonshik’s stance a once over. Wonshik wasn’t fresh, he knew when to seem unassuming and when to pull weapons. At the very least he’d have a face to recognize later. Hearing the vamp fled made no sense. Jongin’s wards still tingled under his shirt. “There are more,” he said softly, “Let’s stick around.”

 

But the night proved fruitless and the two eventually retired to a food cart in hopes of drowning their disappointment in ddukbokki.

 

✖️✖️✖️

 

Jongin is grateful for few things in this world: his well-paying job, the invention of alcohol, and the fact that his favorite clubs never seem to make it onto the department’s “hit list.” Although tucked away in an abandoned warehouse, there are too many fluorescent lights from the surrounding shipyard to draw much vamp action. Jongin doesn’t pick this place for that sort of security, but he is definitely grateful how it all worked out.

His outfit tonight boasts a little more color than usual—a wine red sheer button up, black jeans (some choices die hard), but a sleek pair of maroon boots to finish it all off. A silver choker latches around his throat and a few cheap rings adorn his fingers. He looks _good_ and is going to make sure everyone knows it.

 

The music is loud enough to reach Jongin a few blocks away, the perfect volume to consume him as he steps inside and slips to his favorite seat in the corner. Everyone knows he’s there, perched on the plush bench and inhaling some unholy substance. Moonkyu comes bearing a drink and Jongin grins wildly enough to make the other male flush. He asks his bartender friend to join him for a few rounds. Moonkyu complies just until his boss is storming towards him. It’s miraculous how the click of her heels ring sharply even above the thumping bass.

Jongin leans back and spreads his legs out. He could dance. The three shots of vodka are begging him to grind up against literally anything. He brings his vape to his lips and longs for the sweet draw of a cigarette. Maybe dancing will find him one... maybe if he just got the fuck up. Someone slides into the place Moonkyu previously filled, eyes fixed solely on Jongin. Jongin’s startled but does his best not to show it. His body’s abuzz as he glances over.

It’s Taemin.

“Are you following me?” Jongin asks before he can really think about it. He shifts, drawing his feet back to the ground and straightening his spine.

“And if I was?”

Taemin’s calm reply sends shivers through Jongin. It’s even a bit smug, going by the glint in Taemin’s eye and the upturn of his lips. Jongin is unsettled. He never imagined seeing Taemin again. Twice in two weeks is a lot to merely be coincidence.

Taemin continues first, “Don’t give me that timid look I’m only kidding.” His smirk gives way to a gentle smile and he holds up his hands as if portraying innocence. “Honestly I’ve just been wanting to see you again, to thank you properly for helping me.” Saving me, he wants to say, but lets it be. “Monday wasn’t intentional, I just happened to be meeting my friend Soojung for her birthday, but this,” his hand sweeps across the table they’re sharing, “I was hoping to see you here.”

“Oh,” Jongin exhales, then inhales another hit. Taemin continues.

“Let me buy you a drink at least? Then I can leave.”

“Who am I to deny a drink?” Jongin asks with his own shaky laugh. So much for confidence. Taemin waves Moonkyu over and the man looks between them before shuffling off to get their drinks. Passing Jongin his, Moonkyu slips a note into his palm and winks when he runs away.

_“He’s cute. Don’t fuck this up.”_

Jongin swallows most of his drink along with his embarrassment and tries, at the very least, to engage Taemin in some small chat.

They talk work: Jongin lies about being on the police force and Taemin comments about being an art manager for some rich Gangnam execs.

They talk parties: It isn’t much of Taemin’s scene anymore but he used to love a good club hop. Jongin can’t not sound like some party kid considering he’s been seen at a club three times this month alone. “It helps me destress from work, you know?” Not a total untruth, for once.

They talk everything but about how they met and what it means for the two of them sitting here now.

 

Soon the drinks are done and Taemin, somewhat sadly if Jongin’s reading his expression right, starts to bid him a farewell. It’s stupid to think that they should continue talking. Jongin has reasoned enough that it’s time for Lee Taemin and Kim Jongin to go their separate ways. Jongin can’t take on longer acquaintances than a one night stand; not with his job, his addictions, and his fucked up mental health. The fact that they know each other’s _names_ is too much. Besides Taemin should probably be at the bottom of the river. All long nose and sharp jaw, with shiny hair that looks soft to the touch and a smirk that pulls all of Jongin to attention. After all pretty boys die first, if Chanyeol’s death taught him anything.

Taemin should be dead.

So Jongin catches Taemin’s wrist in his hand and pulls him back, close, maybe an inch or two apart when he asks, “Wanna dance?”

 

✖️✖️✖️

 

Jongin’s a mess of ruffled hair and light giggles while Taemin tugs him along the streetlamp lit alleys. They’re going to his place, Jongin thinks. He’s not sure. He doesn’t care. Taemin’s pretty and firm in his hands, and so very cool to the touch. It’s a reprieve in the hot summer air.

They trip passed the bridge, taking no pauses despite the jolt Jongin feels in his stomach. His phone’s down there somewhere… He should’ve gotten a new one before coming out tonight.

Eventually Taemin pulls Jongin over the threshold of his apartment and tips the door closed with the toe of his combat boots. Their lips clash first. Jongin’s been sucking on Taemin’s tongue all night but something about it happening _here_ gives him that extra boost of wanting. His hands fumble while removing Taemin’s leather jacket and his fingers drink in the light flashes of Taemin’s skin between the webbed netting of his shirt. He can’t wait to tell Moonkyu about his score.

Taemin maneuvers them into his small room and onto the bed Jongin vaguely remembers waking up in a week or so ago. There’s whiskey lingering on Taemin’s tongue and Jongin wants to drink it all down. Gasping for a breath, dark eyes shoot up to the shorter man above him, catching that pretty glint that’s pulled him in every single encounter. He feels soothed, lightheaded and content in ways his alcohol and drug use never seem to manage. Taemin smiles as his thoughts go cloudy and leans in gently. His lips latch onto Jongin’s shoulder, gentle sucking following a soft prick. Jongin groans, his head lolls to the side, and he lets himself get lost in the swimming sensation muddling up his thoughts.

Taemin masks the bite marks in hickeys.

The blond stumbles back and flops onto the bed next to Jongin, giggling loudly to give his fangs have time to retract. Jongin’s thoughts are clearing, though still laden in his substance abuse, and he finds himself able to more properly focus on Taemin once again. Taemin’s hold on him is broken. He never wanted to glamour the younger male but it’s not fun when only one is drunk. Taemin wanted to have fun too. And he’d have asked properly… were Jongin not a slayer.

Jongin clambers shakily on top of Taemin and continues kissing him. He’s not exactly sure what he wants but Taemin is compliant and ready beneath him and if that sight alone isn’t enough to spur him on Jongin’s at a loss of what else could. Their hands get tangled in their clothes, balled fists in fabric as they kiss sloppily and relish in the cocktail of drugs (and cocktails) in their veins. It’s been decades since Taemin felt this _alive_. All thanks to Jongin.

In the end their clothes stay on. Their hands settle to cupping each other’s hips and Jongin snuggles up against Taemin’s shoulder looking anything but his 28 years of age. Taemin watches him sleep; the way his chest rises and falls with soft breaths Taemin can no longer imagine. He’s still buzzing a bit. Less urgent, just simply enjoyable. He realizes that he needs to get Jongin out of his apartment before it truly becomes day. Taemin’s aged long enough to be resistant to the hypnagogic power of the sun, but he’s not immune. Nor does he like to be awake all too much in the daylight.

It’s a few hours away from dawn and Taemin trails his eyes over Jongin’s disheveled self; mostly Taemin’s doing. That thought brings a slight smirk to his lips. He knows how _stupid_ it is to find interest in a human (in the way a human makes him feel). New Seoul had strict rules against human-vampire interactions; resulting in immediate staking of the vampire and life in prison if the human was lucky. If they weren’t, well, even Taemin was well aware of the rumors surrounding so-called “correctional facilities” tucked away in Korea’s countryside. Not to mention humans were fragile, prone to death. Transient. Fleeting. Everything Taemin finds himself aching for.

Jinki would scold him until the end of time if he knew. But as Taemin brushes the soft wisps of baby hair back from Jongin’s forehead he knows he isn't worried. Jinki won't find out. It isn't the first of his secrets kept from his maker.

Taemin hopes he’ll be able to continue seeing Jongin; hopes that the human had as much fun as he did.

He hopes he doesn’t grow suspicious of the two “hickeys” placed so closely on his shoulder.

Just as the sun cracks over the horizon Taemin strategically nudges at Jongin with his foot. It’s well timed to seem like he was stirring in his sleep but hard enough that Taemin hears Jongin groan softly. He’s awake, but he doesn’t want to be. Taemin cracks an eye open to catch Jongin’s wide mouthed yawn and can’t help the laugh escaping his lips. “Morning sunshine.”

“What do you know about sunshine?” Jongin mutters, “Your curtains are so black you’d think it’s midnight all the time here.”

“You don’t even know,” Taemin breaths, pushing himself up on his elbow. He can sense from the slow beat of Jongin’s heart that the other is hungover to hell. “Wanna get some breakfast?” He offers. “You look like hell.”

“It’s 4 in the morning no I don’t want to get breakfast.” Jongin taps around his pockets for his phone before remembering he still hasn’t gotten it replaced.

“4:30 if we’re being picky,” Taemin teases. He relishes in the way Jongin, exhausted and headachy, looks like he’s ready to punch Taemin and any second. He’s always liked them feisty.

Jongin finally pushes himself upright and drags his hands over his face a few times to really wake himself up. He checks over himself—clothes still intact, hair mussed to hell but not ravaged by sex. He looks to Taemin and raises an eye. “So we didn’t?”

Taemin cocks a brow and shakes his head no.

“Oh… Damn, Moonkyu isn’t going to let me live it down.”

“Live what? Oh—” Taemin bursts out in laughter. “Didn’t realize you had a bet going. I’ll keep that in mind next time.”

_Next time._

The words linger between them. There wasn’t supposed to be a this time, Jongin thinks as he starts to feel the same familiar restlessness that plagued him the last time he woke up in Taemin’s room. He keeps letting himself get lost in pretty features and nice feeling hands. (He keeps burying himself in drugs to forget about anything that _isn’t_ pretty and nice). There’s a shift in Taemin’s demeanor that has Jongin’s Kenaz remnant itching behind his ear. He rubs gently at the scar and licks over his well-chewed lips.

“Yeah, let’s think about it next time.”

He rummages through Taemin’s nightstand for a pad of paper and writes down the number he will have if he ever goes back to a phone company. “Use this.”

“I’m no good with phones,” Taemin confesses sheepishly. “Most of my friends just hang around the same areas I do, and they like disconnecting a lot. We’re a little nomadic like that. But hey, if you’re at that club I know where to find you?” He sounds hopeful, feels far more hopeful than a 90 something year old vampire should. Like a school kid with a crush. God it’s disgusting in so many ways.

“Oh…” Jongin thinks it should be weird but here he is going on week three without his own phone and fuck it’s been nice. “Yeah, I’m usually there.” He smiles. This kind of feels like a game. Who will catch the other first; where will that meeting lead them. “Fridays or Saturdays, depends on work.” He smiles slightly, “You’ll have to figure it out.”

 

“Deal.”

 

✖️✖️✖️

 

Jongin starts seeing Taemin a _lot_ . It’s always at a club, one arriving shortly after the other. Typically they alternate, until Jongin discovered Taemin’s pattern and strategically starts showing up later. It leaves Jongin feeling refreshed—making Taemin _wait_ for him gives him all sorts of crush-like giddiness. Moonkyu teases Jongin relentlessly about it, though they both know he’s secretly jealous of Jongin’s score. The two of them always spend just enough time for Jongin to get all the hits he needs before they’re traipsing back to Taemin’s for touching and (unbeknownst to Jongin) further drinking.

Jongin quickly grows used to Taemin’s touches and starts to find himself feeling cold on Saturday nights when he was forced on assignment and goes to bed alone; a miraculous feat because Taemin himself is an icicle. His new favorite pastime is falling asleep in Taemin’s bed; which he’d find to be far too intimate if he didn’t always leave near dawn. He was determined to keep it short and sweet, a bout of fun before returning to reality. He didn’t need the pain of _loving something_ again. Chanyeol had solidified that.

Taemin likes leaving Jongin covered in marks. When the brunette returns home he takes inventory of the hickeys that are riddled over his tan skin. Taemin keeps them concentrated in little areas, a blessing since Jongin can keep all his concealer concentrated in the same spot. Usually his shoulders, his collar, and his thighs. Taemin also likes offering to take Jongin to diners at all hours of the early morning. It’s a cute quirk that Jongin hasn’t taken him up on. He’s rarely hungry in the mornings and doesn’t want anything too close to a date. (He just doesn’t know that Taemin wants to ensure Jongin’s fluids are properly replenished after hours of binge drinking and moments of bloodletting).

For Taemin, Jongin is the release of a lifetime. The partying brings him back to his own youth, back to the events that led to his inevitable death but are still welcomed because Taemin has always been impulsive and restless. The drugs give him the feeling of life he’s missed desperately. And despite losing that fear factor of overdosing, Taemin can’t help but enjoy the sweet release of dancing with danger and facing no consequences.

He knows he’s playing it uncontrolled, glamouring and drinking from a human who has trained years to eradicate beings like Taemin. He doesn’t mean to harm Jongin… and he recognizes the deceit that lingers in their relationship. Lord if he could be forthcoming he would, but Taemin just wants to keep this fun up. Since Jongin isn’t complaining Taemin isn’t going to stop. He’s even found himself enjoying the little buzzes, sparks, and flares that come from the numerous wards on Jongin’s skin.

He’s mapped Jongin out with his fingers so many times he can easily recite where each ward is.

Tonight Jongin flops against Taemin’s pillows, his eyes unfocused and his vision swimming in a purple matching the shade of the pill he swallowed not too long ago. There’s laughter on his lips while his hands grope blindly for Taemin. Soon he catches the other’s fingers and pulls him in close for a messy kiss. Taemin’s hand rests against his cheek and he eventually guides their lips together using a precision that Jongin could never muster in his current state. His fingers slide down, from the Kenaz scar over edge of the eye on the back of his neck. The trail continues over his collar, tugging at the collar of Jongin’s fishnet shirt, then moves over the cross and the lightning bolts until he’s able to lace their fingers again. Taemin’s fangs elongate in anticipation, thirsting not for blood but for the sweet release of substance (and, admittedly, a little for the taste of life that is only Jongin’s). He leaves feather light kisses along Jongin’s pulse point, reveling in the throb of his heart resonating through his skin. As much as he’d _love_ sipping from Jongin’s neck slowly…sensually… he’s far too aware of the implications of leaving a hunter with stereotypical bite marks.

Jongin’s shoulder was Taemin’s old preference but he’s take a new liking to sucking marks into the human’s thigh. Jongin shivers at the cold air when his belt is undone and his pants tugged down to the floor. Taemin hasn’t glamoured him yet because he likes the way Jongin naturally whimpers and jerks whenever Taemin’s lips tease him. He swipes his tongue over the inner muscle of Jongin’s thigh and suppresses his own moan at the way Jongin lurches. The whimpers that fall on Taemin’s ear beg him for more contact. He complies almost too quickly.

Jongin jolts each time Taemins’ lips latch onto him. Shaky hands soon find their way into Taemin’s hair, his grip just tight enough to encourage him. It’ll be hard for Taemin to readjust just to glamour Jongin and he licks over his work as he contemplates his options. He can nip him here and pray he doesn’t notice. He can try his hardest to shift and regain eye contact (but Jongin’s eyes have slipped shut long ago and Taemin doesn’t feel confident Jongin has the strength to hold them open against the thrill of sensation and the exhaustion of pushing his body to all its limits). Had he breath, he’d have exhaled a frustrated sigh.

Taemin soon decides to bite the bullet (almost literally) and sinks his teeth swiftly into Jongin’s flesh. He feels the hand in his hair tighten, a rush of shock washing through all of Jongin and swiftly giving way to panic. Taemin strokes a hand down the thigh he isn’t latched onto to calm Jongin down and silently revels in the electricity Jongin’s wards send off in his direction.

Just as quickly as Taemin bites he lets go, forming his lips to leave his hickey covering while secret licking up the last droplets. Jongin whimpers, confused, and mutters a soft sound that seems like “that hurt.”

Taemin wants to kiss the pained scrunch off his face but is just collected enough to know that his lips still taste like Jongin’s blood. He settled for nuzzling against Jongin’s leg and apologizes for being too rough.

When Jongin’s thighs are sufficiently covered, Taemin’s drunkenness convinces him he’s no longer bloodied. He shifts back to leave more marks on Jongin’s neck until his lips lead him to the kiss he’s wanted to share since he finished indulging. Jongin welcomes him open mouthed and their tongues dance lazily while their hands race to see who can rid the other of his clothes the fastest.

 

Taemin settles atop Jongin’s abs, thighs bracketing his sides. They played safe either first night and since have thrown caution to the wind. Jongin is always itching for a good fuck when enough vodka in his system (and realistically even when he’s completely sober) and Taemin is oh-so ready to comply when asked. There’s nothing better than sex after a drink. The warmth that spreads through his chest and across his limbs leaves Taemin feeling invigorating. He wants more of that heat that only comes from a breathing human body. Drinking someone to death never made sense to Taemin when one can wrap up in temperate arms and feel less like a monster for a moment.

 

Jongin is already grinding heedlessly against Taemin. His grip could leave bruises as he’s ready, conscious enough to know that there’s nothing he wants more than Taemin. Taemin bends forward, elbows propping him up on Jongin’s chest and his lips leaving light kissing on Jongin’s jaw when the other pushes a finger into him. He moans loudly, fingers biting just the slightest bit into the skin on Jongin’s shoulder. His hips rock back against Jongin’s fingers, drawing him in for the deepest stretch he can manage. “More,” he grunts and Jongin adds another. Then a third. Then neither can hold out any longer.

 

Dizzy and pleased, Taemin straightens his spin and repositions himself while Jongin fumbles with the bottle of lubricant. Taemin spreads himself quickly and takes Jongin as deeply as he can, a shaky cry tumbling from his lips. He then draws Jongin to his chest, and clings to him tightly; hips clashing until they both fall together over the edge. It’s embarrassingly quick and messier than either of them would like sober, but now (with alcohol traipsing through their veins and sweat shining on their skin) it’s the happiest they could be.

 

They go at it a few more times that night, switching placement and positions until Jongin finally drags himself home with the oncoming dawn.

 

Jongin is barely awake when his alarm sounds that next afternoon. He hasn’t felt so _sore_ in quite some time and the thought of doing anything that isn’t sleeping is the most unappealing option in the world. He rolls over to hit snooze, miraculously manages to unlock his phone despite his blurred vision, and pulls open his KaTalk chat with Sehun.

_Kkai88: Can’t make it_

_OhHunnie: Bullshit get out of bed_

Jongin groans.

_Kkai88: No._

_OhHunnie: You bastard, aish…_

_OhHunnie: wtf am I going to do with you?_

_OhHunnie: I’ll be over in 30, get up._

Jongin groans again. Sehun is impossible.

It takes all of his energy but Jongin is able to pull himself out of bed and shower before Sehun appears at his door. When he opens it, white t-shirt clinging to his still wet skin and sweatpants that drag on the floor, Vivi tangles himself between his feet and then bolts to the furthest corner of the apartment and back again.

“You brought your dog?” Jongin grumbles, pushing the door open for Sehun to walk in. His friends hands are preoccupied with two travel mugs of coffee and he’s beaming as he enters.

“Vivi missed you.”

 

“Oh I’m sure. And this isn’t some sort of payback for skipping our lunch date.”

“I’d never date you,” Sehun’s response is dripping in mock disgust as he sets the drinks down. “Clearly _someone_ will though, you look like you’ve been attacked.”

 

Jongin’s hand flies to the patch of Taemin-left marks on his exposed neck and he flushes a shade of red that’s darker that Sehun’s t-shirt.

“I, uh, we’re not dating.”

“Then teach me how to have that much fun.” Sehun’s eyebrow wiggle fills Jongin’s hungover stomach with butterflies. “Now drink something before you throw up on me I know that look.”

Jongin brings the scalding liquid to his lips and burns his tongue with the first sip. He feels more awake now than his entire shower.

“So tell me about him,” Sehun asks after a beat.

“Not much to say,” Jongin deflects, attention turning to the puppy playing around his feet.

Sehun rolls his eyes. “I’m pretty sure you’ve seen him every weekend for the last month. There’s gotta be _something_ to say.” He takes a much gentler sip at his drink the Jongin did. “Are you at least feeling a little bit better about…you know.”

Jongin’s lips pull into a line. “Yeah,” he says flatly.

“’Cuz you know, the anniversary of his death is in a month and a half. I was thinking we could hold a vigil or something. Maybe invite the guys on your team.”

“Not happening.”

 

“Jongin.”

“It’s not happening. I’m not going, especially not if there’s a chance his family will be there.”

“Jongin you don’t owe them anything.”

 

Logically he _knows_ he doesn't owe Chanyeol’s family a thing. Chanyeol died protecting him but that doesn't mean it's Jongin’s doing. If only he could convince himself that first. He feels anxiety inject itself into the pace of his pulse. His heart is thundering in his chest. He doesn't think it through when he replies, “And I don’t owe _you_ anything either, Sehun. I’m not doing it.”

That strikes the wrong chord in Sehun and he rises to his feet. His dark eyes bear straight into the side of Jongin’s head. Jongin keeps his gaze averted. “I put up with a lot of your shit you know? I let you fuck around like this because I know it’s how you cope and I know how much his death fucked you up but you have to get over it. He’d want to see you back on the force and healthy and, you know, _living_ since he gave that up for you.”

Jongin swallows hard. There’s a prick of heat behind his eyes that he hasn’t felt since the day Chanyeol was taken and a dryness in his throat that demands a beer. “I can’t,” he mutters.

“What?”

 

“I _can’t_ Sehun! I can’t face it. I can’t face what I did to…to him. It should’ve been me. And I know he was your friend but he was a lot more than that to me and I…”

“You have your new fling.” Sehun sounds bitter.

“It’s _not_ that. He doesn’t even know. We don’t see each other past like, fuck I don’t know 4AM? It’s not how you’re thinking.”

“Well whatever it is…I’m holding my vigil. And I’d like you to be there.”

Jongin feels hopeless. He’s spent the last 10 months building himself in this reckless way; this casual, aloof, sexual party-goer who fucks around hard and fucks even harder. But before Chanyeol’s passing he was never really like that. In the army he preferred reading comics to bar crawls. He split focus between his work life and his home life, sharing both with Park Chanyeol; his army bunkmate who tagged along when Jongin signed the contract and started in the VSO. He disconnects because he needs to be disconnected from whatever it is he’s become. And Taemin’s not knowing about him helps with that. He can be the thing that he’s not without facing an air of pity pouring from his colleagues.

When Sehun and Vivi take their leave Jongin finds himself at a loss. He needs the blessing of anonymity Taemin gives him; but he wants support in a way that he’s never been able to ask of Kyungsoo, Sehun, or Moonkyu. He inhales and holds his breath, swiping into his new contact’s list and searching up the number Taemin had given to him before their last romp. It’s a line he’s not ready to cross. He tip toes over it anyway.

_Kkai808: hey you there?_

In the few hours it takes Taemin to reply Jongin down’s a beer, goes for a run, regrets his run immediately since he hasn’t eaten anything, and eventually returns to his apartment with some fish cakes and a carton of broth. The sun has already started setting.

_Taem93: Sorry! I guess I am still not very good with this phone thing. How are you?_

Taemin’s weirdly formal speaking tone bleeds into his texting and Jongin can’t help smiling a bit.

_Kkai808: honestly bad bout with a friend. are you free? could use some company._

_Taem93: Ah, I’m sorry. I have some time tonight. Would you like to come over?_

_Kkai808: you could come here if you like._

_Kkai808: I just brought home dinner_

_Kkai808: shouldn’t be too cold by the time you arrive._

There’s a pause. Taemin’s typing, then erasing, then typing again. Until…

_Taem93: Are you inviting me over?_

_Kkai808: yes?_

_Taem93: I want to hear it._

Jongin bursts out laughing. Taemin is the weirdest flirt, and to think they’re flirting right now (and that he wants them to be) is sickening but Jongin wants it all the same. He presses down on the mic button and says, “Taemin I’d like for you to come over to my place.”

_Kkai808: happy now?_

_Taem93: I’ll be over soon._

_Taem93: :)_

Taemin arrives not too long after sending his first smiley. A ripple courses through Jongin’s wards when he approaches the door and he takes a moment to assess his surroundings. It's dusk, yes, but any vamp wouldn't be able to come in uninvited. He must be overly paranoid from his meeting with Sehun; the discussion of Chanyeol and his exhaustion in coping both before and after.

 

They’re splitting the remainder of Jongin’s soup when Taemin finally checks in again, asking a gentle “So what’s going on?”

Jongin’s reluctant to fill Taemin in on everything so he opts for a watered down version of a friend wanting to hold a vigil for another friend and Jongin just not feeling like it’s a good idea.

“Was this friend…more than a friend?” Taemin asks with a tilt of his head. He gets his answer from Jongin’s light blush.

“I’m not good with advice but I think you should go,” Taemin suggests.

“Maybe,” Jongin removes himself from the seat at his kitchen counter and grabs them both drinks. Taemin knows this is a sign that their conversing is over and takes the offer without complaint.

Their night soon dissolves into their standard fare, with a little less drug usage. Jongin finds more solace in Taemin’s body than he has through his ten months of coping. He holds Taemin a little tighter, let’s Taemin nip him a little longer, moans a little louder, thrusts a little slower. He takes everything that he can from this moment because if he’s learned anything it’s that you never know how long it’ll last.

It feels more freeing than all of his hours of reckless play combined. Deep seated in his muscles are the reminders of Chanyeol; his weight, his touch, his whispers. Taemin is not Chanyeol, Jongin knows this and truly doesn’t expect anything different, but he relishes in the comfort of similar situations. Jongin finally feels at peace.

 

That morning he wakes up naked and alone under his covers, with an unread message lighting up his phone.

_Taem93: Sorry I had to leave so suddenly. I forgot about a meeting I have early in the morning. If you need anything let me know. Good luck at work today._

_Taem93: :)_

Jongin smiles a little bit too.

 

✖️✖️✖️

 

“Isn’t a little hot for a turtleneck?” Wonshik looks so smug as he eyes Jongin up and down. Jongin grumbles something back, moving towards his desk in hopes of looking anywhere else than Wonshik. Taemin did a number on his neck, collar, and shoulder. Jongin hasn’t walked away with this many hickeys in quite some time. Worse, he didn’t have enough BB Cream to mask them all before work.

Kyungsoo walks to the space between Jongin and Wonshik’s desks, handing them both a new report freshly printed by Jongdae. “Focus now, we’ve got some rough times ahead of us.” Three more known turnings in the East and a handful of deaths in the South and West. “Something else though,” Kyungsoo hums, stepping back and crossing his arms over his chest. “There’s been an Elder sensed around the East, somewhere near the Gangnam district. It’s rare we see Elders flitting around long enough to pop up on our radars, let alone having them trigger our sensors three times in the month. It’s suspicious.”

“It has to be linked,” Wonshik cuts in, a new fire in his eyes. “An Elder leaving his kin to thirst for show. Bet the sick bastard gets off on this shit.”

“We don’t _know_ it’s linked,” Jongin cuts in, annoyed already at Wonshik’s attitude. Their last few club hunts have proven fruitless. The vamps always catch wind of them first and flee before Jongin or Wonshik can pin them and Jongin’s starting to blame Wonshik’s trigger-happy “let’s kill every fucking thing” attitude.

“Even if they’re not we gotta eradicate the elder anyway, don’t we boss?”

Kyungsoo grunts a half-hearted agreement. It’s true, their jobs were to rid New Seoul of as much vampire activity as possible. But Elders were a different story. They ran factions of vampiric clans beyond what the SPD or VSO could begin to comprehend; factions who, if tempted, would likely tear the city apart. Usually they stayed out of trouble too, feasting on stolen hospital blood bags and sewer rats. Once in awhile, though, an Elder would break free from the mundane and it would demand the attention of every police officer and hunter in the area. Elders weren’t off limits, but it was better not to piss them off if they could avoid it.

“This Elder might be the best way to get information if anything,” Kyungsoo says carefully.

Wonshik lurches forward in a rage. “Information?! If you think I’m doing anything other than killing the bastard when I get my hands on him you’ve got another thing coming Kyungsoo.”

“Stand down, Wonshik,” Jongin hisses between his teeth.

“Don’t tell me what to do _pretty boy_. Just because you’re his pet doesn’t mean I have to listen to you too.”

“Wonshik,” Kyungsoo snaps. “We get you’re frustrated but it’s only been a month. If this case was that easy to crack we wouldn’t have to deal with it in the first place.” He turns away from them both, fingers lacing behind his back. “Tomorrow we’re going on your wards. You’ll patrol the area until you stumble upon _anything_. Tonight look at the case notes and prepare your best map. Those are orders.”

Wonshik mutters back to his desk, slamming his file down. Jongin thinks he’s like a child throwing a tantrum, but he has other concerns. “Hey boss,” he calls, voice low as he closes the space between them. “My wards have been a little out of whack since I’ve returned full time. Think you can get me an appointment with Xiumin before the next hunt?”

Even now Jongin feels wired, like the lightning bolts on his forearms keep sending sparks throughout his body. The sun was always buzzing and even his remnant Kenaz was ringing with worry. Jongin knew he’d be out of touch since his brief retirement, but he didn’t think it’d physically fuck him up this much.

Kyungsoo shoots him a dark look. “You really think I can just get you checked by the cities greatest sorcerer on a whim?”

“I know you’re magical in your own right?” Jongin tries with wide puppy dog eyes.

“That dog of yours is better… I’ll call Xiumin tonight.”

Jongin grins. He’s always been good at working Kyungsoo when he really needs to. “I’ll take the heat for you, don’t worry.”

As revenge for the impromptu favor, Kyungsoo schedules Jongin’s appointment for 6AM sharp the next morning. Jongin’s droopy eyed and yawning when his hand falls on the doorknob of Xiumin’s hole-in-the-wall shop. There’s a fizzy feeling at his fingertips before the door grants him permission to enter. Inside the walls hum with the plethora of magical amulets, mounted and waiting until their rightful owner takes them away. Jongin’s wards hum loudly in response; it’s not a good feeling for so early in the morning.

 

Papers are strewn across the desk, a small pile resting against the ancient cash register, but no one is mounted on the old stool. “Xiumin?” Jongin calls, taking slow and deliberate steps so that he doesn’t set off the wrong magic stone; or worse, the man who controls them all.

“Back,” A sharp voice calls behind stacks of books and dangling pendants. Jongin brushes passed them carefully and steps into a small second room. There’s a recliner chair in the center, bottles of fluorescent liquids perch on the counters adjacent and besides the fact that there are no needles anywhere the place isn’t unlike a tattoo parlor.

“Sit,” Xiumin (a man of few words, Jongin’s noticed over the years) says without looking up from his spell book. Jongin does as he’s told, settles in awkwardly, and continues to stare at the bottles. Every so often an air bubble swims towards the top; Jongin just wants to get this over with.

“So what’s the problem?” Xiumin finally addresses, eyes falling on Jongin. It’s then that Jongin realizes he was reading the morning paper behind his spells all along.

“My wards are nonstop. I mean here I get it but when I’m at HQ they just keep buzzing. There’s so many levels of protections on that place I’m pretty sure a vampire couldn’t come within a five mile radius,” he’s rambling again, blames it on his exhaustion, and starts rolling up his sleeves to focus himself. He reveals almost all of his tattoos, unassuming despite how they resonate underneath his skin. “Whatcha think doc? Can you help me?”

Xiumin lets out a hum. His fingers trail so lightly over Jongin’s skin that it makes him shutter. He hasn’t felt a touch that gentle since Taemin the other night. The thought sends a shiver through him and Xiumin recoils slightly. “Thinking about something _exciting_?” He asks with a wiggle of his eyebrows. The suggestive expression on his lips falls as quickly as it popped up. “Reign it in a bit or I won’t be able to tell you what you want.”

“Sorry,” Jongin replies a few shades of red. He focuses on the air bubbles for the rest of inspection.

“Well,” Xiumin hums, sitting back in his chair. “Everything looks in order. The magic isn’t tampered with but Jongin, are you _listening_ to what your wards are telling you?”

“Of course I am,” he retorts, indignant.  “I’m still alive aren’t I?”

Xiumin doesn’t seem all too pleased at that. “They’re for more than your hunts. And knock it off with the substance abuse, you’re going to tire them out before they really have the chance to protect you. Stop treating them as tattoos. If you wanted those you could get them instead of wasting my time.”

Jongin is admittedly caught off guard by the sharpness of Xiumin’s tone. The magician has always been pointed and a little brash, but he’s never been this cross with Jongin.

Jongin has known Xiumin since he first took the job fresh out of the military at 21. He’s watched the magician remain ageless, even as Jongin grew taller, then broader, and finally settled into what he defines as his ready-for-retirement stage. They’ve bantered, shared jokes and drinks. Jongin’s squirmed as a newbie to magic underneath the skillful hand of Xiumin as he marked him up with his first wards. Dark eyes look the little sorcerer up and down for a moment. He’s not sure what Xiumin’s thinking and, of course, his eye of perception at the base of his neck isn’t doing much to key him into Xiumin’s sentiments. “I’ll be careful,” he says after a moment, knowing full well he’s lying. There’s a ringing around them, mostly the call of truth tellers, and Jongin flushes. Already caught red handed.

“Nice try,” he says flatly, raising an eyebrow. “While you’re here, do you want anything new? Maybe an 8?”

“Why would I get an 8?”

“Call it a hunch, but I feel like you need all the luck you can get.”

Jongin snorts. He’s sure his luck ran out when Chanyeol was slashed open before him. “Of all things?” He asks rather incredulously. Xiumin doesn’t move. His golden eyes remain fixed on Jongin, waiting for an answer.

“I don’t think I need luck anymore,” Jongin continues, pushing himself from the seat until Xiumin’s outstretched hand stops him.

“I’m no fortune teller, but trust me on this one. It’ll be quick and painless I promise.”

Jongin settles back, eyebrows quirked with concern as Xiumin takes his tools to Jongin’s skin. He etches a small “88” right beneath his right collar, dabs it in a few droplets of a rose-scented, periwinkle oil, and recites something quickly and quietly that Jongin can’t catch.

 

“There. Trust me, okay? Double for good luck. I’ll send you my bill.”

 

✖️✖️✖️

 

Jongin doesn’t take to his new marking too well. The 88 itches more than his other wards ever have combined and Jongin has to resist scratching the dark blue shine off of his skin. The rest of him is tingling residually from Xiumin’s check-up, a feeling he needs to shake off before the night’s job. It’s just encroaching on 8:30 in the morning when Jongin realizes that he’s in Taemin’s neck of the woods. He glances to his phone, considering sending a message Taemin’s way but time is approaching the other’s 9 to 5 restriction so there’s no way he’d get a response. Instead, he drags himself to the diner Taemin always suggests after their 3am romps. It’s his first time stepping into the joint, despite their month or so long meetups, and the scent of coffee that hits him straight in the face already tells him he’s in the right place. Jongin takes a seat in a booth towards the back. The restaurant is American themed with a Korean fusion menu, though Jongin wouldn’t know from experience since he’s never really left Korea (except for a trip to Japan as a child). He wonders if Taemin’s travelled. They’ve never talked about it. They’ve never talked about anything really. As he waits for his omelet he starts to think about all the things he wants to know. He wonders about Taemin’s family; what turned him onto art curation; what draws him to the club scene when he’s otherwise so proper and demure. Most of all he’s curious what pulled him to Jongin, besides the whole saving his life thing. The incident was only a month ago but Jongin feels like he’s known Taemin a lifetime. He starts to think on all the questions he’d _like_ to ask him. Maybe on a night where they only drink. Maybe a night where they don’t even go out at all…  
  
He stops a waitress for water and catches a glance at her nameplate. Soojung. Wasn’t she the friend Taemin was celebrating on their first run in?  
  
“Excuse me,” he dares to ask. “Do you know Lee Taemin?”  
  
She blinks, obviously taken aback by his boldness of his question. More importantly, the understanding glint in her eye gives away her wonder at how this stranger knows her by association. Her face remains collected, though, when she nods. “He’s a long-time customer. We’ve gotten to know each other over the years.”  
  
Soojung doesn’t strike Jongin as one for conversation so he drops it at that and starts to wonder what kind of customer Taemin is at a place like this. Clearly he’s kind if Soojung invited him to her birthday. What made him interested in American-fusion food in the first place? Jongin wants to know all the answers.

  
He’s feeling a little more refreshed from an afternoon nap when he receives a text that the night’s mission is cancelled.

 

_Kyungsoo0112: Junmyeon’s men got wind of a raid tonight and our whole area is surrounded. Better to try another night._

 

Jongin shifts in his seat on the couch, throwing his leg over the back, thighs spread comfortably.

 

_Kkai808: ETA on when it’ll be good 2 go/_

_Kkai808: *?_

 

_Kyungsoo0112: Standby. Expect Friday._

 

Fuck. He and Taemin have a night planned. Jongin scrunches his nose some. It’s only Tuesday, which doesn’t make for the best clubbing night but Jongin’s had fun during weekdays past. The only issue is Taemin’s art job. He takes the risk to call him anyway.

 

“Jongin? What’s up, is everything okay?”

 

“Fine, fine!” He chuckles a bit. Taemin’s always worried. Chanyeol was the opposite, incredibly lax and Jongin, being antsy as all hell sometimes, appreciated the balance. Yet This difference in Taemin is still refreshing; let's Jongin feel like he's not alone. “I have a day off tomorrow, are you free? I heard there’s a party going on in West Sector.”

 

“Party? It’s a weeknight.”

 

“Has that stopped us before?”

 

Taemin’s silent for a beat and it makes Jongin laugh.

 

“See?” He continues, “Fight me I dare you.”

 

“Alright, alright. Want to come over-- or I guess I can meet you there?”

 

“I’ll be over,” Jongin says quickly, almost before Taemin finished the second half of his suggestion. “See you soon.”

 

He swipes a line of kohl over his eyes and dusts a little bit of red beneath them for a more striking look then slips into a low cut v-neck and jeans. Tonight he decides to forego the silver rings and earrings and heads straight to Taemin’s. He’s already ready, but they can linger a bit longer if Taemin has more to do.

 

There’s a growing sense of urgency in his wards the closer he comes to Taemin’s. He’s promised Xiumin to listen to them more properly, too, and he’s trying really hard. He does a perimeter check before finally taking the stairs to the buzzer outside Taemin’s apartment door. Taemin appears down the hall and the 88 warms against his chest. Soon his other wards are calming too. Jongin cracks a smile in greeting, grateful that whatever potential threat has moved away so he can just enjoy their time together.

 

They don’t linger too long since Taemin’s also more or less ready when Jongin arrives and they’re still not completely used to being together sober. Truth be told Jongin can’t take his eyes off Taemin-- the blond hair works well with the white top he chose and the definition in his exposed arms makes Jongin’s heart flutter in all sorts of ways. And he won't even get started on the tight, washed out jeans.

 

As they walk he can’t help but feel antsy. The lightning on his arm is pricking him with each step, the sun sizzling. His pocketwatch is muted though and Jongin just can’t sort out what exactly that means. His shoulders grow tense, dark eyes darting around them then settling on Taemin every so often to make sure he’s safe.

  
“Everything okay?” Taemin slows his steps to a halt and turns to Jongin.

 

“Fine,” Jongin replies slowly. His new mark seems to hum in that moment and Jongin glances down for a half second. His luck… Maybe it was all okay. “Let’s keep going?”

 

Taemin cracks a gentle smile, an unspoken _Sorry to cause you this trouble,_ behind his eyes that Jongin misses entirely.

 

Halfway to the party they both decide that it’s not worth the effort to get there or the energy to fake having a good time. Jongin’s still exhausted from his morning excursion and his worried wards make him too antsy to remain outside. He guides Taemin to a nearby bar instead and the two are greeted warmly by the owner to welcomes them inside and shuffles them to a seat near the bar. The lights are low and the place relatively empty. It’s quiet save for a woman crooning a love song in the corner. Jongin doesn’t fight their placement though he’d prefer somewhere a bit more secluded. Taemin smiles like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

 

It’s when they order drinks and settle across from one another that Jongin realizes this is the most intimate they’ve been yet. He thinks of going to the diner, talking to Soojung, endless questions that he could ask Taemin all right now. Instead he smiles sheepishly. Taemin takes charge with the chatter, rambling on about mundane things; work mostly. Taemin knows a lot about art, which makes sense why he works in curation and maintenance but Jongin’s pretty sure that he knows more than any art history teacher he might have had in college. Taemin switches fluidly from his own stories to questions about Jongin’s life and it dawns on him how their ease of communication is not unlike his time with Chanyeol. Jongin grows tense, lips pulling into a line. He wouldn’t argue he has a type-- Taemin is a whole head and shoulders less than Chanyeol and far more polite. But it’s the little things: like how he discusses his day and prods Jongin about his, how he wraps himself around Jongin and suffocates him in the summer heat, how he moans when Jongin tugs at his hair. Nuances that had endeared Jongin to Chanyeol and now lock him to Taemin.

 

But of course Taemin is so much more than that. He knows when to give Jongin space and when to rush over to help. And he doesn’t judge Jongin for his habits in the way Kyungsoo, Wonshik, and Sehun all seem to. The same way he's sure Chanyeol would react if he knew. What they have is comfortable, and Jongin can’t think of any problems.

 

 _‘Fuck,’_ As Taemin reached for his hand Jongin snatches his shot glass to his lips and drinks swiftly. He has _feelings_. And it seems like no amount of shots are going to wash them away.

 

Taemin doesn’t seem perturbed, sets his palm against the table and lowers his eyes. He’s so good, knowing when not to probe Jongin’s thoughts.

 

“New ink?” He asks instead, pointing to the glistening 88. He finds himself growing less buzzed by the rest of his magic and more focused on the bright way his collar tattoo now seems to take to Taemin. “Mind if I?”

 

Jongin nods and Taemin reaches across the table to drag his fingers across the rounded top of the first 8. His eyes glisten, a ward like this isn’t typical for a hunter. Taemin wonders what inspired Jongin to receive a mark that has the capacity to take warmly to vampires. The rest of Jongin falls silent in the lucky mark’s wake and he lets his shoulders deflate in comfort. The dark blue letting feels smooth under Taemin’s fingers and he lingers for a few extra beats just to take in the mark. As if it’s made for him.

 

“I like it,” Taemin says simply, back straightening and fingers now wrapped around his glass. “Suits you.”

 

Jongin looks down at the tiny little thing and grunts a non-discriminant reply. Leave it to the all-knowing magician giving him a mark he didn’t expect. Jongin’s 88 settles and he feels more at peace now than he has in months. Xiumin did say to listen to his wards. Guess his luck must lie in Taemin.

 

They continue their chatter until last call cuts in at 2AM and they’re asked to leave. Jongin doesn’t particularly want to call it a night and leans towards taking Taemin up on one of his many previous diner offers. But tonight Taemin doesn’t ask about Jongin’s hunger, so Jongin decides not to push it any further than he already has; asking Taemin out on a work night and all that. He lets Taemin walk him home because Taemin’s own antsyness gets the better of him and he wants to ensure Jongin’s safety.

 

Jongin debates a lot of things in that walk. He thinks about how he would keep Taemin safe were there an attack. He thinks about the questions he missed in the course of their night that he’ll have to bug Taemin with next time. He thinks about how he should ask him inside when his apartment building is in sight. Then he thinks none of it matters right now with the way Taemin’s fingers fall upon his 88 once more and his lips grace his cheek. Jongin would never dare ask for a moment more tender.

 

✖️✖️✖️

 

Friday comes and he drags himself to headquarters that night, filled with stored conversations in his KaTalk and a pretty stupid smile on his lips. The buzzing of his wards is faint, but still present, and he can’t shake the worry that this will interfere with his assignment.  
  
Despite (or because) of Kyungsoo’s bias towards Jongin he receives his scouting position in the East. Wonshik’s clearly displeased, wanting nothing more than to stake that elder to ash and find vengeance on every vampire in the district. He doesn’t acknowledge Jongin when he walks in and quickly connects shoulder to shoulder as he sets out on his assignment in the West. Dark eyes follow Wonshik until he’s out of sight. “You sure it’s good to send him out alone?” Jongin asks, attention turning back to Jongdae and Kyungsoo. “His recklessness is going to get him killed one day.”  
  
“Or keep him alive,” Kyungsoo corrects, “It seems to have been doing him well.”  
  
Jongin shrugs, though he is acutely disgusted at his own uncaring attitude for Wonshik’s safety.  
  
“Do you feel better after your appointment with Xiumin?”  
  
Jongin looks up from the papers he’s collecting for the mission. “Yeah,” a small smile, “thanks. He even gave me some new ink.”  
  
“Oh?”

 

“Something small. Don’t worry, the bill’s coming my way.”  
  
As Jongin turns towards the door Kyungsoo steps forward and calls out to him. “Be careful. If you feel off for any reason just go home. They can’t get you there,” he pauses, contemplating the words on his tongue, “we can’t afford to lose you.”  
  
Jongin glances back over shoulder and shoots Kyungsoo the most confident smile he can manage. “You haven’t lost me yet. I’ll be in tomorrow, don’t worry too much boss.”

 

For an area ripe with vampire activity the locals act relatively unfazed. Rich Gangnam-ites traipse between five-star restaurants and high-end clubs in their stilettos. Businessmen smoke cigarettes in front of bars and less than legal substances the shadows of alleyways. Families bring their children to all parts of the city well after curfew. Jongin feels a little angry. He is reckless with himself but he owns that. But he knows what he’s doing when he smokes himself into a high at 1AM. These people seem oblivious to the world they live in, to the precautions that the SPO and the VSO have painstakingly put into effect. Jongin can’t help but think, bitterly, that if they want to disregard the rules maybe they deserve whatever cards they’re dealt.  
  
Still, it’s his job to protect them as best he can. Jongin sets down the first route of his map, a long stretch of fancy clubs that Jongin himself would never set foot into. The air smells of Dom Perignon and designer drugs and something in Jongin buzzes; not an alert to vampires, but a deep seated crave for whatever lies behind those black doors. He swallows it down and presses forward, watching for people who stumble out prematurely, searching for the creatures they lure.  
  
The night crawls onwards, as does Jongin. He’s circled the clubbing district a few times and now explores the less populated but still strangely active bar nook. Less isolated, each drinking establishment rests under or between lofty apartments and well-off businesses. This feels more right to Jongin, judging by the number of small communities that have been ravaged by the newly turned fledglings. He should’ve left club exploration to Wonshik in the south.  
  
He rounds a corner when the hairs on the back of his neck bristle. The eye is alive and searching and the sun feels warm against his shoulder blade. For the first time in forever Jongin feels in tune with the symbols on his body, and he breathes a silent thanks to his wards for not abandoning him in his time of drug abuse. He closes his eyes and tries to sense where he needs to be next. He’s rusty, despite the club crawls he’s been pulling with Wonshik all month. He feels something both at his right and straight ahead but nothing that indicates anything truly _vampire_ . He tries to step silently towards the wall, a move to avoid being completely surrounded, and edges around to an alley. His body feels heavy on the balls of his feet, his muscles tight, and for once he’s wondering if maybe he should’ve stayed “in retirement.” Kyungsoo had a lot of faith in Jongin’s natural adeptness for their job. As he steps into the alley Jongin prays it wasn’t misplaced.  
  
“You need to get out of here.”  
  
Jongin stiffens and steps back into an offensive stance. His fingers itch for the knife at his waist until he realizes he’s face to face with, “Taemin?”  
  
Taemin’s expression is calm in a way Jongin has never seen before. unreadable. Jongin is startled enough to see Taemin here, in this specific alley no less. On top of that his wards are on fire. He’s desperate for an answer that he needs Taemin to give.  
  
“Jongin, go. It’s not safe.”  
  
“How do you…”  
  
There’s a ripple around them, an eeriness in the air that is entirely inhuman and Jongin turns to see three pale-faced creatures surrounding them. They grin widely, fangs glistening in the low cast of a streetlamp from back towards the sidewalk.  
  
“Well, well,” the center most comments, his long tongue swiping over his bottom lip. “Wasn’t expecting a hunter to crawl into our trap tonight.”  
  
“A hunter and a member of the Lee clan,” the vampire to the left grunts. His eyes are low, boring into Taemin.  
  
“Not a member, an heir,” the right corrects amidst a wave of airy giggles. “If we take you out we’ll really be able to run this town.”  
  
Jongin’s gaze darts between Taemin and the three vampires. Lee…clan? He suddenly feels sick. The wards on his arms are sizzling now in anticipation, ready to blast off the second a move is made. But the 88 on his chest is humming in Taemin’s presence, almost cheerfully compared to the anxiousness of the rest of him. It’s warm in a comforting way. His luck. He swallows; maybe he’s not run out of it just yet.  
  
He takes a step forward and sends a sidelong glance to Taemin. Unsure (or unwilling, rather, to acknowledge) what Taemin is, he at least feels certain that the two of them can make it out together before they have to confront this reality between them. Taemin catches the look, nods with the fluidity that only a vampire can possess, and launches himself towards the supposed leader of the three.  
  
Jongin’s fighting prowess has declined in the last year. He’s no longer as quick on his feet or adept to counterattacks. But his age has given him a sturdiness he never has as a young recruit and he takes the hits he’s dealt without so much as a grunt in return. His lightning bolts explode at the touch of the giggling one and send him back in a burst of light. Jongin catches him in the throat with his elbow and flips him to the ground with all of his weight, catching Taemin dodging gracefully between the other two in his periphery. A knee falls heavy onto the vampire’s chest, fingers withdrawing his stake from the holster hidden on his waist. He’s surrounded in ash the instant he rams it into the vampire’s chest and quickly wipes the remnants from his eyes to charge at another of the group.  
  
He successfully stakes the second one while Taemin takes out the third, and in the moment of relief and their success Jongin turns to Taemin, stake at the ready.  
  
“What are you,” He barks, eyes narrowed. “What the hell are you.”  
  
Taemin’s hands raise at his sides, expression unwavering, and he holds Jongin’s gaze. “I’m sorry,” he responds carefully. Jongin thinks he hears a twinge of sadness in Taemin’s tone. He hates it.  
  
“Don’t, Taemin. I’ll end you now.”  
  
“You couldn’t,” A pause. And then a small smile cracks at the corner of Taemin’s lips. “Not without my permission, anyway.”  
  
Jongin has never come face to face with an elder before; and he realizes that if he was rusty enough for a rogue to put a hand on him he’d probably die at Taemin’s hand before he could make a single move.

  
His wards have settled into a defeating tingling. They’d known all along; he just didn’t have it in him to accept their truth. The 88, on the other hand, is practically shining. He curses himself for letting it distract him.  
  
_“Why,”_ Jongin is desperate to ask. Why is he this? Why have they been going on as if they weren’t vampire and hunter? And though he’s aware now, why didn’t Jongin want to know…  
  
Instead he asks, “Are you behind all of this?”  
  
“The turnings in the east?” Taemin questions for clarification he already has, “No. This isn’t me or my clan. We’re also trying to figure it out. Jongin we can help you.”

  
Jongin finds himself growing…angry. Or maybe it’s helplessness. “Help? Your kind can never help us.”  
  
“But I just did,” Taemin interjects. For the first time that night Jongin can see a crack in his composure. Taemin’s eyes are starting to look a little desperate, his hands twitch at his sides. He wants to move closer and Jongin won’t let him.  
  
“You wouldn’t have made it. You’re strong but their numbers would’ve overpowered you. They wanted you and Wonshik to split up so they could take you both out. They planted the attacks in the south to get your department separated. Jongin they’re keyed into your operation.”  
  
And so was Taemin, it seemed. “How much do you know about me that you’ve been hiding all this time?”  
  
“Only your work. Jongin I’ve…” The crack in Taemin’s expression grows, “I’ve been keeping an eye on your hunts. You’re not unknown in our world. Many want you dead and I…” Taemin falters. “After you saved me I couldn’t just… you know?”  
  
He doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t want to think about Taemin’s intentions. He doesn’t want to think about all Taemin’s helped him.

 

What he wants is to look at Taemin and assume he might as well be the same vampire that took Chanyeol away. He craves that same burning anger coursing through Wonshik’s veins, wants the inability to stomach having to look at Taemin any longer. None of it’s there. Through the layers of self-loathing and guilt, Jongin can’t find it in him to hate Taemin the way he’s been trained. “Some vampire. Either try to kill me or go.” He shifts his stance, grip so tight around the wooden stake that his knuckles are flushing white. If he can’t hate Taemin then at least he can hope to make Taemin hate him.  
  
There’s a flash of hopelessness and then, wordlessly, Taemin vanishes, leaving Jongin alone in an ash filled alley. There are still a few hours before sunrise dictating that Jongin remain on alert for any remnant rogues in the area. He starts back on his trek and reaches for his phone. He and Kyungsoo coordinate a cleanup crew for the early AM and then Jongin’s back en route, angrier than ever. Biting back tears that he never thought he’d shed again.  
  
For once his wards are silent, save for a sad little ping from his itchy 88.

 

✖️✖️✖️

 

On the northeastern side of Seoul, just past the business district of Gangnam and deep in the beneath street level resides the Lee clan. Headed by Lee Jinki, one of the oldest (though not _the_ oldest, he’s apt to remind) vampires residing in Korea, the Lee clan was one of three top factions that controlled the underworld in all of East Asia; on par with the Jung Clan in the north and the Kim clan in the southwest.

 

The rogue epidemic was raging havoc on the peace treaties between the three clans. With no one willingly claiming them, rumors of deception started to permeate the underground. Jinki is close to Kim Jaejoong and Jung Yunho, knows logically that if either was behind such recklessness they’d have larger problems on their plate. Finding the source of the chaos has kept Jinki working endlessly; underground enough to avoid the sun and old enough that the effects of time could no longer fare again his power. Taemin has been free to explore his trysts with Jongin because of a lie. He promised Jinki street level reconnaissance that he had to a point; but now that his link to Jongin was severed he wasn’t sure how he could properly face his maker.

 

Jinki looks up expectedly, with a warm and welcoming smile on his lips when he senses Taemin’s return. “You’re back early,” he comments, gesturing to a chair across from his desk.

 

Taemin takes the seat and looks down to his hands. “Caught three tonight, towards the residential areas of Gangnam. They look scraggly, controlled but definitely not well fed. I tried to get out of them who they were working for but their lips were sealed.”

 

“Figuratively or literally?”

 

Taemin’s lips purse. He should’ve checked. He was too focused on Jongin’s safety. “I don’t know.”

 

Jinki lets out a hum. He’s not disappointed but Taemin has known him long enough to sense that he wishes to know that piece of the puzzle.

 

“I’ll find out next time,” Taemin says quickly, hoping to prove himself.

 

“I’m sure. You never let me down Taemin,” Jinki smiled and it shoots right through Taemin’s heart. That’s a lie, and he hopes Jinki never knows it. Or at least not while Taemin’s able to consciously be aware of it too.

 

No matter how many years pass for Taemin, when it comes to him and Jinki he always feels like the child he was on the day he was turned. The older brother-style doting is incessant and at times overbearing. Taemin wants to be more than just heir apparent. Doesn’t want to take over but misses anything that lets him feel as though he’s accomplishing things in his own right. Jongin at least let him find fun, frivolously. Lord how he misses Jongin already.   

 

Jongin starts to wonder if his wards are protesting. He sits in the back corner of tonight’s stakeout bar and feels _nothing_. No pinpricks of heat from his sun, no vibrations in the crosses. Even his 88 is hushed. Now that he knows why he had felt so disconnected from himself he can’t help but become bitter. Xiumin had warned him to listen to his wards and he ignored the magician. In retaliation, he can’t feel anything other than the pulse of club speakers and the chatter of drunken attendees. Any other night he’d be living for this moment; now not so much.

 

He downs one shot extra than is VSO on-duty protocol and leans against the wall. He should’ve taken Sehun’s advice as asked for the night off, but even the thought of succumbing that deeply to his own emotions disgusted him.

 

It wasn’t like he and Taemin were _anything_ other than fuck buddies. And it wasn’t like he wanted anything beyond that. No, Jongin was sure he wasn’t upset because of the status of him and Taemin’s non-relationship. He was upset that for being one of Seoul’s best hunters he couldn’t identify the vampire when he saw it. It was disgraceful. That’s all that mattered.

 

He’s about to call it a night when a shift in the club’s aura has his wards bristling. He drags his tongue over his bottom lip as he takes a lap around the club. Nothing in here, but he can feel a bit of a pull from the south side of the club walls. Right in the dead-end of an alleyway. It only makes sense.

 

Jongin shoulders himself out through a back exit. One hand clutches around his stomach, feigning illness as he stumbles into the back and retches a few times. He can feel it, the energy approaching him from the shadows and he channels his focus onto the sunwheel on his shoulder blade. A loud hiss bounces around the bricks and the vampire steps back, clutching his smoking hand. Jongin whirls around, sends the silver lined sole of his boot into the vampires gut and knocks him back. He closes the distance between them, elbow at the vampire’s throat and stake pointed towards her chest.

 

“Who are you working for,” he demands.

 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She attempts to spit in his face then shrieks when Jongin digs the silver against her exposed ankle.

 

“I would.”

 

He feels the watch on his neck start clicking in the back of his head and pushes away from her to face two newly arrived vampires. He’s surrounded now and wishes he had Wonshik here for backup. So maybe Taemin had been right about the plot to separate them… Maybe he should’ve brought that back to Kyungsoo.

 

The newcomers aren’t much for talking, leaving Jongin struggling to battle between the three of them and wishing he’d staked the woman when he had the chance. He swings blindly with his stake, reaching for a handful of refined silver dust that he throws into the eyes of one of them. His cries call out two more rogues from the shadows and for the first time in his career Jongin feel overpowered. His wards have fired off left and right, creating just enough distance for him to counter. But even those counters aren't enough, and the more creatures he takes out the more that seem to show up before him.

 

His back is pressed against the wall, six vampires before him. Jongin starts recalling the prayers Chanyeol used to pour over on their downtime. Neither were particularly religious, but Chanyeol always liked the idea of salvation. _“Imagine,”_ he’d muse to Jongin, fingers tracing underneath a line that particularly resonated with him, _“working so hard to protect people and ending up in a bad place because of it. I’d like the chance at redemption.”_

 

 _“Do you really think this will get you there?”_ Jongin’s brow rose, eyes following the same line as Chanyeol, his heart feeling none of the weight.

 

_“I don’t know, but I have to at least try.”_

 

Jongin starts pulling those lines back to the forefront of his mind, mouthing them wordlessly as he throws one vampire towards the low-glowing streetlamp and suffers from the claws of another one. _‘Will your soul find mine if we part the same?’_ He wonders when his skin tears open from the juncture of his neck and his shoulder. Jongin stumbles into a growing puddle of his own blood. The vampires around him start to still, and Jongin feels his 88 pop and sizzle, eager for something Jongin can’t quite make out through his blurring vision.

 

Six give way to three forms; half of them succumbing to ash while the others find opportunity to flee.  

 

“ _Really?_ ” The smallest of them asks, crossing his toned arms in front of his chest. “It was all for him? Even that stupid cellphone?”

 

“Of course it was, look at how cute he is,” the middle one comments. His lithe body moves effortlessly over Jongin and his wards make a vain attempt to protect him one last time. “Lee Taemin with the most sought after hunter in this decade…”

 

 _‘So Taemin’s here,’_ Jongin would laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Would that he could. Taemin who can never seem to leave him alone. Not in the clubs, not after work, not when he’s on his last legs.

 

“Will you _stop_?” Taemin whines in a way Jongin has never heard before. Despite his centuries of age, compared to Jonghyun and Kibum Taemin is relatively young. And he feels that way in their presence, especially with how relentlessly they tease him. Jongin’s focus is waning but he can make out how much…humanity the playfulness casts upon Taemin.

Taemin keeps turning between the other two vampires and the open air where the rogues escaped. He sounds antsy, and in return Jongin’s 88 grows antsy with him. It vibrates more powerfully than any of Jongin’s other wards. Like it’s calling out to Taemin. “I need you to protect him. I promise I’ll only be gone as long as it takes to find that rogue and get information from him. Jaejoong-ssi will benefit too so… _please?_ ”

Kibum’s brilliant grin sobers up. He's never felt attachment to humans though still isn't one to mock Taemin for his. He looks Jongin’s limp body over then addresses Taemin’s plea with a nod and tugs Jongun under an arm. “Whew…those wards of yours really pack a punch, even when you’re bleeding out,” he hums, nudging Jonghyun with his foot back towards their residence.

“Is this a good idea?” Jonghyun asks gruffly, noting the trail of Jongin’s blood left in the wake of their trek home. “Bringing a bleeding human into a vampire den?”

“You won’t let anything happen to him, you care about Taemin too much to let him down.”

Jonghyun whirls around to give Kibum a look of shock, defensiveness, and a little bit of anger.

Kibum arches a brow in return, “tell me I’m wrong.”

Jonghyun turns back around, Jongin now switched into his arms, in a huff and mutters under his breath the rest of the way. “You get the grate, I’m a little preoccupied.”

Kibum complies and heads in first, ready in case Jonghyun decides to drop Jongin out of jealously.

With no sunlight, and buried deep below street level, Jongin starts shaking in the cold; though the loss of blood also has something to do with it. There’s a rush of frozen air around them the instant Jonghyun’s feet hit the floor. The two vampires look up, eye to eye with their mischievous gaze of their maker.

“Who’s this?” Jaejoong asks as though he doesn’t already know the answer.

Kibum and Jonghyun exchange glances, mouths remaining shut.

“You really think I wouldn’t be aware of a dying hunter entering my domain? I could smell you before you started back this way,” his eyes roll once and he holds out his hand. “Give him to me.”

“He’s not ours, sire,” Jonghyun speaks first, hoping Kibum will back him up.

“Then why is he here?”

“We’re…holding him for a friend?”

Jongin groans in Jonghyun’s grip, slumping further against his cold shoulder. Everything feels so cold…

Jaejoong doesn’t look pleased. His brows draw together while poignant eyes shoot straight through Jonghyun. “So do I tell Jinki about this or will you stop thinking you can outsmart me?”

Outed, Kibum confesses first. “Taemin asked us to help him.”

“And why are we listening to Lee Taemin?”

“He’s our friend, sire,” Jonghyun cuts in before he can think it through. “We made a promise. Besides Jongin hasn’t done anything wrong—”

“Anything wrong!? He’s the most renowned hunter in this area!” Jaejoong, exasperated, runs his hands through his hair. It’s a showy move, it tells Kibum and Jonghyun they’re not in trouble anymore. Jaejoong seems giddy if anything. He’ll take any excitement in his old age.

Kibum grins, “But he’s never caught any of our clan.”

“And he never will,” Jaejoong shoots back, but there’s a smirk tugging on his lips as well. “This is so good,” he practically hums as he carries Jongin towards his chambers in the back. “I have so much over Jinki now.”

They place Jongin atop the queen sized bed in the center of Jaejoong’s large room. When the century turned and beds became more than just straw tied together Jaejoong ditched his coffin as quickly as he could. The necessity of a firm mattress and plush seats is lost on the vampire, but he has always been a fan of needless luxury. In the corner of the room there’s a small fountain whose bubbling Jongin strains his ears to hear. He needs anything that feels remotely natural. His wards are trembling under his skin, fearful of the vampire magic that surrounds them. As he works on stitching Jongin’s wounds shut Jaejoong catches sight of the 88 peeking out from the low collar of Jongin’s shirt; glistening expectantly, as if wanting to be noticed. Jaejoong lowers his hand, golden eyes fixed on the deep pearlescent blue.

“Don’t touch him!” Taemin shouts from the doorway, untangling himself from Jonghyun and Kibum wrapped around his waist to stop him.

Jaejoong raises his hands, turning to face the intruder. “I’m harmless I swear,” he says coolly, “Was only trying to help. He needs it, after all.”

“I want to see,” Taemin pushes on. Jongin looks almost blue in the low light of Jaejoong’s chambers. He’s lost too much blood and though Jaejoong is a master of stitch work it’s not enough to replenish what Jongin has already lost.

“It’s too cold here,” Kibum comments quietly. “He won’t make it if he can’t warm up. His vitals are on their last leg.”

“Just take him home,” Jonghyun suggests, “it’s your best shot.”

“He won’t make it to sunrise.”

Taemin’s eyes fix on Jaejoong, jaw tight in defiance. Jaejoong isn’t allowed to take Jongin away from him. Neither is that fucking rogue. He makes up his mind.

In a swift motion Taemin has Jongin wrapped in his arms. In another he is out of the Kim lair and down the hallway towards the sewer grate. Hearing Jonghyun and Kibum behind him only quickens Taemin’s pace.

Jongin stares back at Taemin with unfocused eyes. He’s fading so fast and Taemin’s panicking. He hurries towards Jongin’s apartment, away from the light creeping over the horizon. He thinks this is it, but refuses to believe it.

 

“Jongin please,” Taemin begs, “Stay with me. Stay with me, please.”

Jongin groans something indecipherable and shakes in Taemin’s hold. A hand raises weakly, though whether Jongin wants to caress Taemin’s cheek or shove him away he’s not sure. He danced around with his own end for so long. But now, with it in front of him, Jongin isn’t sure he’s ready. He thinks of Kyungsoo, who will take Jongin’s death so personally it might force him into retirement. He thinks of Wonshik, who might not care about Jongin specifically but will have to handle the loss of another partner on the job. He thinks of Taemin. Taemin who anxiously rushes Jongin to anywhere he can think of that will save them both. Because without Jongin, Taemin might as well burn in the morning light.

 

Taemin’s pace starts to slow. He has one final idea.

He changes direction, far away from Jongin’s apartment. The paved sidewalk gives way to cobbled walkways and soon Taemin is gliding in that silky, inhuman way over the dewy grass of the suburban hillside. He settles next to a fallen tree on the westward facing side, calculating the amount of time he has before daylight.

Eternity. Taemin never wanted eternity. But he had begged to a false god in a moment of weakness. Selfishly, Taemin defied the rules of life and death. A terrified child who didn’t want to go when he was forced to. He ascended the ranks, Jinki’s favorite heir, until this moment where he’s clutching onto a dying human as if his own non-life depends on it. In essence…it really does. So he looks down at Jongin, at the light flickering in and out of his eyes, and makes one more selfish decision.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers and leans forward.

Pain washes over Jongin unlike anything he’s felt before. The numbness of bleeding out morphs into fire pushing through his veins. He’s being drained. He’s watching the stars as his own life leaves him. They glisten, matching the mark beneath his collar. Magic is being flushed from his body, and Jongin distracts himself by connecting the dots of Cassiopeia, Pegasus, and Perseus. Then Taemin pulls away, and Jongin’s eyes slip shut. The pain settles in his muscles, restricts his breath, drowning him instantly, until he’s breathing no more.

 

✖️✖️✖️

 

Jongin awakes with a jolt and, startled, sharply inhales dirt. He starts thrashing, nails digging into the earth all around him. Is he being buried alive? The thought has him breathing heavier and heavier until suddenly he notices he doesn’t need to breathe at all. The realization hits him harder than the mud and maggots in his throat, but before he can take in his lack of need for oxygen, or the tingling of magic beneath his skin, or (most importantly) the parched feeling in his throat that demands he fulfill his thirst, he becomes distracted by hands clawing at the ground above him.

Jongin has to shield his eyes when the moonlight breaks through. A hiss escapes his lips. He doesn’t recall being so sensitive while sober…just another point to take into account. Haloed by the moon, Taemin’s face appears before him, twisted in concentration. But when their eyes meet Taemin is suddenly awash in relief. He rips the ground apart until his hands reach Jongin’s shoulders and he can pull him to his chest.

“You made it. You made it thank everything,” He gasps, voice shaking in a way Jongin has only ever heard once; the night he learned Taemin’s true identity.

And then Taemin tenses against him and Jongin, who has remained tense since waking up, creates a little bit of distance. “What’s going on?”

Taemin starts to falter. His eyes are darting every which way, except matching to Jongin’s. “I…can explain Jongin. I…” He nibbles on his bottom lip, fangs shining just slightly and it dawns on Jongin.

“I’m hungry.”

“Oh! Of _course_ you are,” Taemin shuffles to his feet and offers Jongin a hand to pull him up as well. “Let’s handle that first.”

They stalk around the woods until Taemin can catch them each a rat. “It’s not as good as a human counterpart but this’ll keep you until I can get you a blood bag.”

Jongin doesn’t want to ask. He doesn’t want to acknowledge what he knows has happened. What he’s become. What Taemin’s made him.

He can’t think on it long because he knows it’ll drive him insane. The beings he’s hunted, to become one is unfathomable. Jongin would rather die. He figures he technically did…

Taemin shows Jongin how to find the veins and drink. He takes slow, deliberate gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow. Jongin watching the tiny dribble of blood trailing down Taemin’s chin and feels his own fang elongate in anticipation. When it’s his turn he tries to mimic Taemin exactly and fails. He’s too thirsty. He devours the creature in less than a minute, then, disgusted with himself, tries to bury the rat properly in hopes of atonement.

“Here,” Taemin offers up another rat, “you’ll want more.”

 

✖️✖️✖️

 

Despite the number of rats Jongin burns through he can’t seem to quell his own thirst. He feels like he’s going to go mad, throat irritated and dry. He just wants _one good meal_ , and if he listens carefully he can sense the heartbeat of a potential bite.

He gets now why the fledglings were so ravenous. They really make the perfect killers.

“Let’s go back, there are blood packs there.”

“Back?”

“To…Oh God you might not remember. Jaejoong-ssi, Kibum, and Jonghyun,” Taemin holds out his right hand to Jongin but the nails on his left are fiddling with the loose skin of his cuticle. Jongin takes notice.

“Come with me to the Kim Clan,” Taemin presses. “At least for the first few days. Let me get your thirst under control and then…”

Jongin’s tongue traces over the lengths of his fangs, still elongated in anticipation. Fuck he’s so thirsty. A heartbeat throbs in his ear; the sound of life beating beneath the skin of a walking human. His lips part shakily. There’s no longer air in his lungs to heave a sigh and he shutters until Taemin’s outstretched hand falls onto his shoulder. “Soon.”

The closer Jongin comes to humanity the more he wants to become wild. His nostrils flare in desire, drinking in the scent of blood all around them. But Taemin keeps him in check with a hand on his arm and a sharply soft whisper demanding Jongin’s focus on him. Only on him. Soon Taemin stops at the grated entrance, nudges it back with his palm, and all but forces Jongin down to the underground.

There’s a ripple of energy around them; the acknowledgment that they are invaders to a clan that isn’t their own. Jonghyun greets them at the door, Kibum behind him, and their eyes go wide at the site.

“Taemin,” Kibum starts.

“He needs to drink, do you have any packs?”

“You can’t bring him here—”

“I can’t bring him _back_. Not yet. His thirst is still too strong.”

“You don’t want to face Jinki.”

Jonghyun and Kibum bristle, shifting as Jaejoong steps up behind them.

Jongin remembers Jaejoong vaguely. He remembers the needle and thread worked delicately through the skin of his shoulder. He remembers the terror his fried wards felt in the presence of one of Seoul’s most powerful vampires. Jongin no longer feels the same fear, but he whimpers slightly as he sways by Taemin’s side. Jaejoong is still so much stronger than him and can bring the end of Jongin’s regeneration in the bat of an eye. Jongin is feeling like he truly doesn’t belong; and when he remembers that he wasn’t given a choice he starts to feel angry.

An outsider in a world he didn’t want to enter.

But really he’s just so _hungry_.

“I will face him,” Taemin replies steadily. “We were closer to here than the East. Please just let him feed. I don’t want to lose him.”

Jongin’s eyes move to Taemin. _‘Lose me?’_

Jaejoong doesn’t seem displeased with the request. In fact the smirk on his lips is unsettling not only for Jongin but for Kim clan members as well. “Jonghyun lead them over to the stash. And bring me one while you’re at it.”

Jongin settles into a back corner of the kitchen. He’s awed by the amenities—surprise that vampires would even think to keep a room filled with a stove, oven, refrigerator, and more. He never really thought about vampire _living_ situations, falling prey to the lore of coffins. Soon he has a blood bag in each fist, ignoring Taemin’s offer of a straw in favor of tearing through the plastic with his teeth. He burns through three of them before he starts to feel satisfied and after the fourth is able to look at Taemin with more focused eyes and a much clearer head.

Through all that Taemin’s eyes haven’t left Jongin. He lets out a small chuckle, his thumb swiping across Jongin’s chin to collect the dribble of leftover blood, trying not to smear it. Jongin thinks he shouldn’t let him, tenses at the touch, but allows it anyway.

“Why?” Jongin’s voice is rough, still heavy with the coat of blood, and he’s still sorting through everything to figure himself out.

Met with silence, his eyes finally move from Taemin as he starts to inspect himself. His wards are gone. The old magic has been removed from him, leaving all sorts of new enchantments in his veins. Jongin flexes his fingers. It feels better, in a way; it feels more natural. This magic is his to own, and not just infused in him.

He tugs at his collar to find that Xiumin’s gifted 88 still shines on his skin proudly. _‘What is…’_ He looks to Taemin, silently asking the question.

 

“It's a vampiric charm.” It warms proudly in the face of both vampires and feels weirdly comforting in contrast to the coolness of Jongin’s dead body. “It responds well to vampire magic.”

“Jongin,” Taemin then continues after a moment. “I don’t know what else to say. But I hope you can…trust me when I say that it wasn’t your time. You stepped in when I needed it and I need you—to…help me finish this case of yours. You can’t just leave it now.” He focuses on the business of their relationship. He hopes that Jongin wouldn’t read into the desperation that carries through Taemin’s every action. How much he wants to keep Jongin by his side. But Jongin isn’t blind; he just lets Taemin lull himself into the sense of security he needs and tries not to think on where his own emotions fall in the mix of everything.

“Let’s finish this,” Jongin says softly. “I don’t want to become like any one of those victims. I…need you to keep me from that.”

“I’ll take care of you.”

Jongin looks up, it’s like not Taemin hasn’t before...he has no reason to think he wouldn’t now.

 

“Trust me to take care of you,” Taemin continues, “I promise you I will.”

 

✖️✖️✖️

 

It takes Jongin about a week before he can get the pang of incessant hunger down to a dull throb at the back of his head. He no longer wants to pounce on the nearest heartbeat, but he can’t ever shake the thought that their blood could be his. How tasty it would be…

 

It's taking longer for Jongin to reconcile between himself and Taemin, furthered by the way they touch on the subject and then dance away.

The two of them have found recluse in Jaejoong’s dwelling. The elder gathers blood packets from the nearest hospital when he's worried about depleting storage.

He doesn’t feel comfortable leaving Jongin alone.

Once he’s less bloodthirsty, Jongin’s attention shifts to the mission momentarily abandoned. Taemin gathers intelligence from Jonghyun and Kibum, both of whom inform him that Jongin’s previous VSO unit has been unable to make much progress since Jongin’s death. Wonshik’s aggression is heightened. Any poor vampire who crosses his path becomes ash before he can think to interrogate them. Kyungsoo, Jongin already knows, is hopeless in the wake of his “death.” His resolve to end the case is muted; so Jongin wants to take it upon himself to give Kyungsoo the victory he deserves.

Some nights Taemin feeds Jongin to the brim and uses his satiated state to run back to his own clan home and connect with Jinki. Jongin wonders why he can’t meet Jinki, especially when he’s made Jaejoong’s acquaintance a number of times since his turning. The lack of meeting is always thrilling for Jaejoong, and Jongin huffs when he realizes that he can’t ask the master vampire for any reason _why_. He chooses to ask Taemin instead.

“Jaejoong isn’t your maker,” he states one night.

“No?” Taemin asks with a cock of his head, pouring over a copy of Jongin’s files Jinki has miraculously acquired in the last week.

“So who is?”

 

Taemin’s lips draw into a line. “Lee Jinki,” he answers after a moment. “Head of the Lee clan.”

“Oh,” the name doesn’t register to Jongin, “And you’re an heir?”

“Yes.”

“So why have I met Kim Jaejoong?”

Taemin becomes immediately flustered so Kibum takes the opportunity to interject. “It’s against clan code to turn someone,” he remarks pointedly, fending Taemin’s exasperated attempt to shut him up off with one hand. “Golden child doesn’t want to show Jinki that he’s hardly gold at all.”

“Maybe more like a dull bronze,” Jonghyun gets in between his loud snickering.

“Don’t you have something better to do?” Taemin hisses, finally pushing both vampires back into the hallway connecting each small bedroom (Taemin and Jongin had taken ownership of Kibum’s room, forcing him into Jonghyun’s) to the pathway that leads to the surface world. Like a child he slams the door to punctuate his tantrum, then turns his attention back to Jongin. “So…”

“So?” Feelings of dizziness have plagued Jongin since he was first turned. Between becoming adjusted to his weightless, magic-laden form, learning how to sustain himself with blood, and discovering nuances of the vampire world that he, as a hunter for eight years, never would have imagined Jongin is unsure when he’ll ever regain a sense of his self and surroundings. Now is one of those times where Jongin has to place a hand against the bed frame to make sure he doesn’t fall over. Taemin, instinctually, extends an arm out in case he needs to catch Jongin too.

“They’re right. Clansmen aren’t allowed to turn other vampires. I’ve violated a lot of rules with you,” a sad smirk plays on his lips, “even before any of this.”

“Jongin soon I’ll take you to Jinki. And, if you want, you’ll be initiated into our clan,” _or staked on the spot, along with me_ , Taemin opts out of saying. “I wanted to make sure you were coherent when it happened. I wanted it to be your choice.”

Jongin can’t suppress his scoff. And though Taemin remains composed in response, it only causes the ache in his chest to spread down through his limbs. “ _My_ choice?”

“Did you want to die?” Taemin asks sharply, “I wasn't going to let it happen.”

“That wasn’t your decision to make,”

 

“And it wasn’t yours when you tried to stop me on the bridge that night. Why is your choice to save me permissable when we’re strangers but I can’t save someone I love?”

 

Jongin’s eyes widen and he fumbles through Taemin’s admission to reply, “You were already dead then, so what does it matter-...”

 

“You didn’t know that when you climbed up next to me like a drunken idiot. You didn’t want me to die and I know you didn’t want to die that night either. Tell me I’m wrong, Jongin.”

 

“Wait.” He pinches at the bridge of his nose, reigning in the initial wave of anger and confusion, and the warmth in his gut at the thought of Taemin _loving_ him.

 

“No. I didn’t want to die… You’re right,” he locks eyes with Taemin, “but that doesn’t mean you didn’t take this from me.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Taemin, for all his poise when they were partying and his status as vampire heir, deflates in Jongin’s presence. “But you saved me then and I thought it wouldn’t be right if I didn’t do the same. I know you enough, Jongin. I know you play smarter than throwing your life away, even if you act like you want to. I thought you’d want to be saved too.”

Jongin’s nose crinkles some but he doesn’t protest. Deep down Taemin’s right. Jongin could have died a year ago if he chose to. Something kept him going, still keeps him going. And Taemin is a part of that in more ways than one.

And then it dawns on Jongin in all their fretting of life and death and the undead. Taemin’s always known Jongin’s place as a hunter. He’s always risked the wards and silver, the potential of being caught and killed. Maybe Jongin’s abilities can’t match Taemin’s status as a heir but Taemin’s never struck Jongin as cocky. This wasn't a game for him. Just… genuine.

 

“Why?” Jongin asks because he doesn’t understand any of Taemin’s intentions.

“Why did you pick me?”

Taemin blinks in response, lets his eyes trail all up and down Jongin’s features while he tests out the reply on his tongue. “Because…I understand you. The parties, the drinking, the drugs… I get all of that. I _missed_ all of that. And spending time with you let me cling to the life I’d lost.”

Taemin sounds so sad. And there’s a little bit of a glassy sheen over his eyes, the tense tug of uncertainty pulling on the corner of his lips, and the quiver of his hands in his lap that tells Jongin Taemin looks so sad.

It’s alright, though. Jongin is sad too.

Jongin’s gaze is the first to drop. His eyes settle onto his own fingers laced on his thigh and he shakes his head once. “Thanks,” A pause, “For saving me, that is. I don’t want to think of where I’d be without you.”

 

“Now...let’s make sure we keep any of this from happening to your friends.”

 

✖️✖️✖️

 

Whispers of Jongin’s death rustle through the vampire world and have him bristling. He knew vaguely of his reputation and to this day has never cared as much as Wonshik always seemed to. Hearing it now, however, makes Jongin feel unwelcome in a new world he never originally wanted to be in. Many don’t know he was turned, or if they find out they’re startled by Taemin’s associations and quick to want a piece of Jongin for revenge. He’s staked a lot of vampires in his time and though he’s forgotten a lot about it all, their kin certainly haven’t.

It leaves Jongin with his lips pursed and his muscles tense. When he’s tucked away in Jaejoong’s clan home he feels safe enough. Jonghyun and Kibum are the most threatening with their childish pranks; but when Jongin’s bloodlust gets the better of him they’re quick with a blood pack and a strong arm to hold him back until he’s regained himself again.

To Jongin’s surprise Jonghyun, Kibum, and Taemin have dedicated themselves to taking down the rogues just as much as Jongin’s own unit had—if not more. Their knowledge of banished heirs and abandoned clan leaders has narrowed down the list of suspects to a possible three. It’s beyond anything Jongin could have managed.

Shim Changmin: The youngest of the Originals in Seoul, alongside Jaejoong.

“Changmin was full of himself,” Kibum remarks as he outlines a loose sketch of what Changmin looks like. Vampires can’t appear in photographs, after all. Though Kibum swiped something very ragged from a memory book of Jaejoong’s; a youthful photoetching of him, Changmin, and three others taken before they turned. “He was too eager to break away and start his own clan. His children wouldn’t listen to him, didn’t like to serve him and he didn’t like to deal with insolence. It fell apart pretty quickly.”

“What kind of motive is that, though?” Jonghyun asks with a raised brow.

“Next,” Taemin hums as he sets Changmin’s files to the side.

Kim Soohyun: The would-have-been leader of the Kim clan had Jaejoong not taken the title.

“He has the authority to get a bunch of rogues to listen to him,” Taemin comments, dragging his fingers over the print of their notes and showing highlighted facts to Jongin.

“Soohyun is a friend,” Jaejoong cuts in, doing his once-in-a-blue-moon check in on Kibum and Jonghyun’s work. “He chose not to be a leader, it wasn’t forced upon him.”

Which just leaves… “Lee Joon,” Taemin’s lips pull into a line. He remembers Joon well. Joon, the original successor to the Lee clan, was eventually banned by Jinki not too long after Taemin’s turning. Taemin’s own memory isn’t very clear; then still caught up in the rush of youth and bloodlust. But he can vaguely recall Joon’s musings on the future of the race. He wanted vampires revealed to the public, designed to scare humans into submission. “We’re the superior race,” he would say, fangs glistening as he paced before Jinki, “we need to act on it.”

Just as Taemin was ready to rank within the clan, Lee Joon was stripped from his status and banned by Jinki indefinitely.

“Should’ve realized this sooner,” Taemin shakes his head and shoots Jongin a momentary glance.

“Can one vampire do this much?” Jongin asks, fingering through his old reports and the ones compiled by Jonghyun.

“One vampire caused all of this,” Jonghyun waves his hand around the room. “One vampire can do a lot of things.”

“But he’s still only one vampire. We can take him down just in sheer numbers.”

“Calm yourself _hunter_ ,” Kibum shoots Jongin a glance. “Lee Joon is one of the elders, he won’t go down easily.”

“But Jaejoong and Jinki are older, aren’t they? Doesn’t their power outnumber his?”

“Not so simple,” Taemin says solemnly. “If any clan leader oversteps their bounds to eradicate another faction of vampire it’ll dismantle years of code.”

“So then what has Jinki been having you do all this research for if he’s not going to solve the problem?!” Jongin clenches and unclenches his fingers, keeping himself from slamming a fist against the mahogany table. His growing enraged by how, even in death, he seems so helpless when it comes to this damn case. Countless have died, himself included, and his friends are still in peril, “What’s the point of all this?!”

“ _Jinki_ can’t violate code,” Taemin shifts, placing a hand to the back of Jongin’s and tugging gently. “But I can.”

Kibum lets out a snort, “he already has multiple times. What’s another one, right?”

“This is ridiculous,” Jongin snips, pushing himself back from table and onto his feet. “Your codes are stricter than the SPD. Nothing’s going to get done.” He turns towards the door and starts out. He’s always hated working under restrictions and these vampire codes run too deep for him to learn in a proper amount of time. He worries about the status of his teammates, having not heard of or about them for a week now. But more than that he’s embarrassed. He knows that Taemin’s violations all revolve around him and he wants to know just how many other vampires know it; especially since Kibum doesn’t seem like the type to keep his lips sealed. His reputation as a hunter precedes him, he doesn’t want to think of it shifting towards talk of Taemin’s _mistakes_.

He feels a shadow swooping after him and doesn’t need to turn to see Taemin at his heels, fingers wrapping around his wrist.

“Let me go,” Jongin tugs himself away from Taemin’s grip easily and turns. “I’m going out.”

“Where?” Panic etches into Taemin’s eyes and twitches at the corner of his lips. “I’ll go with you.”

“No,” Jongin feels defiant. He’s tired of being cooped up in this underground hole.

“But you’re still fighting your bloodlust. Please, just one more week and it’ll be fine but not right now,” Taemin’s desperate to reason with Jongin, and Jongin isn't too sure it’s for his sake or Taemin’s own. He’s being kept secret from Taemin’s own maker and he’s sick of walking around like Taemin’s dirty little secret. He needs a drink.

“I’ll be fine,” He turns back, hand on the bottom rung of the sewer ladder. His eyes squint to see the grate above him, cracked enough that the light of the street lamp colors the wall a pale blue. “Don’t follow me.”

 

Jongin sets the entrance back into its slightly skewed position and takes a long moment to drink in his surroundings. Although he doesn’t need it, he inhales a heavy breath of air and lets the staleness sit in his non-pumping lungs. Living cautiously as a human has nothing on the skulking around Jongin has to do as a vampire. He thinks that he took humanity for granted. Playing so dangerously in work and in fun was so appealing when there was risk with the reward. It’s risky now, in a sense, being an ‘illegal’ being of sorts, but nowhere near as fun. He knows all the main stations for the SPD and remembers all the areas the VSO will likely be staking out tonight. He knows not to go there. And if he’s seen by any other human…what worry even is there?

The closer Jongin gets to the lower west end club district the stronger his senses become. All the different heartbeats throb in his ears and on his tongue. He can smell all the sweat and vomit from a night of hard partying. He can feel like life forces of those around them. Even more, he can just about taste the abundance of blood. His throat burns for a drink, fangs elongating in anticipation as men and women in tight clothes and high heels traipse in and out of sight. One drink, he reasons, won’t hurt at all. It doesn’t even have to be a complete one. He knows enough about vampire abilities to remember that he can glamour a human to do what he wants. Even if he hasn’t glamoured anyone yet, he can’t imagine it’s hard. Just get them to look into his eyes… That’s always a human’s first mistake; looking into a vampire’s eyes.

Jongin slaps himself back to his senses and morphs back into the shadow of a bar before he gets too lost into his hunger and too close to a human. _Fuck_ , Taemin was right in wanting to keep him longer and Jongin doesn’t want to admit it. He presses his shoulders against the bricks, lets his head fall against the wall so he can focus on the stars above him struggling to make their way through the heavy glow of city lights. Jongin is thinking about how to make his way back when a man bursts out the back entrance of the club yelling expletives at a bouncer. “Maybe _you_ need a hit to calm that steroid addled brain of yours!” He spits out, rubbing his shoulders. “Can’t a guy just make an honest fuckin’ livin’ around here.”

“What’re you selling?” Jongin steps out from the shadows in that slinky, scary vampire way and startles the man before him.

“What’re you buyin’?” They barter a little bit before Jongin walks away successfully with a few lilac-colored pills and a grin on his lips. He pops them both on his way back towards the grate (trying to be smart enough to at least remove himself from most of humanity before going on an acid trip). He slows his steps, reveling in his momentary freedom but actually just waiting for the drugs to kick in. Waiting. And waiting. He’s already back ‘home’ and continues to feel nothing. He sinks his teeth into his own lips, thinks back to his trysts with Taemin as a human. Taemiin has also been…influenced, had he not?

Taemin’s eyes widen at seeing Jongin so soon, so frazzled. “What is it?” He asks, immediately jumping to his feet. He inspects Jongin a few times, hands aching to run over every inch of Jongin’s skin to check for damage.

“How did you do it?” Jongin asks breathlessly (ignoring the nuance that he no longer has breath), “How you…you know… with me?”

Taemin cocks a brow, “How did I…what?”

“Drink. Smoke. Do drugs,” His tongue slides over his fangs nervously, “tell me how, I need a hit.”

“Ah… Well, you…can’t.”

“But you did!”

“Jongin keep your voice _down_ ,” Taemin hisses, pulling him along until he finds an empty room deeper into the clan complex. “Look…” He glances up to meet Jongin’s eyes, “I could do it because you were high. That’s why I’d…feed…when we were together. You pull it from the bloodstream.”

“That’s…”

“I know, but it’s honestly the only way so if you want it… let me know now.”

Jongin’s silent for a small stretch of time. Alternating between processing and rejecting this new bit of information. Then he asks, “Can you get me a hit?”

Taemin knows he shouldn’t, after all of the other rules he’s violated. Hell Jongin is still young. But he owes him from all the times he secretly indulged off of Jongin’s own drunkenness. And he’d give him the world anyway if he could.

“Come on.”

 

✖️✖️✖️

 

Jongin recognizes the diner Taemin always used to recommend at the end of their nights together. Taemin walks in without a problem, waves momentarily to a man at the counter, and leads them to a seat not too far from the one Jongin took after visiting Xiumin. The 88 on his collar pings excitedly at the familiarity.

Taemin’s looking for someone and waves her over the second her long dark hair and slender shoulders pop into view. It’s Soojung. She seems to remember Jongin too with the way her brows arch in recognition then pinch in confusion. “Long time no see,” she says to no one in particular. “What can I get you?”

“A favor,” Taemin says with a sweet smile that tightens a knot in Jongin’s chest and does absolutely nothing for Soojung.

“Taemin.”

“Not a big one. Jongin wants a fix… can you help him?”

Her lips purse, but she doesn’t say no. “I’m off in 10 minutes. Make an order, tip me well, and I’ll get it done.”

Taemin does all of that: gets them a bowl of kimchi jjigae to share even though food has no bearing on their palates anymore, pays with a 30% tip going to Soojung, then walks around the diner to catch her in the back. “It’s pretty late,” she comments casually, leading them through a few winding sidewalks. She’s more focused on tying her hair up than she is on continuing her remarks. “I don’t know how many are out but I shot one friend a text, so we’ll see what happens.”

Jongin tugs a bit on Taemin’s sleeve and bends his lips towards the other’s ear. “Where are we going?”

“Soojung’s going to help you out.”

“With what? An underground feeding ring?” Jongin is joking until no one else laughs.

“Something like that,” Soojung chimes in, arriving at their destination. Her manicured fingers pull back the beaded curtain entrance to an abandoned warehouse. “He’ll be in the back. Night Taemin.”

“Aw, not joining us?”

“After the last raid I’m not taking chances anymore.” Her words are heavy but there’s a smile on her lips. She winks, “Stay out of trouble.”

The club is thriving with vampires but when Jongin really keens into his senses he notices the heartbeats throbbing around him. All his years as a hunter and he’s never imagined a place like this. Humans and vampires coexisting. No reports of murders and mutilations. In a warehouse in plain sight. When he thinks on Soojung’s mentions of raids he wonders which one of Junmyeon’s men have been paid off.

None of that’s important, though, when he has a hit waiting for him at the other end.

“You Soojung’s friend?” Taemin steps in front of Jongin to assess the stranger but Jongin can’t help himself from peering over the shorter male to see. He wants this so badly. The drinks, the drugs, the blood. His fangs already extended, the feeling of _life_ in front of him is practically palpable. He wants it so bad.

“I am,” the male replies comfortable. “So you’re…Taemin, I take it?”

“Yes and this is my friend—”

“Jongin?!” The stranger cuts Taemin off and jumps to his feet to get a closer look.

 _Fuck_ , Jongin thinks first. He’s so known between the vampire circles and the club circles. He should’ve used his brain to realize that this was a bad idea. Then he looks down to see Jongdae.

“W-what are you…?” He stammers, taking a step back.

“I thought you were dead,” Jongdae doesn’t look frightened in the least to see Jongin before him. If anything he seems a little…relieved? Excited? Jongin can’t exactly read the expression well but it’s not what he is expecting.

“I mean I am,” Jongin replies awkwardly. It’s just as hard to talk to Jongdae now as it was at work.

“Right but…well you know, gone forever. It’s a relief, actually. I wish I could tell Kyungsoo.”

“Don’t,” Jongin snaps before he can think twice about it. “Sorry. I just don’t want them to know. I don’t want them after me.”

“Kyungsoo would never,” Jongdae corrects. “But I understand. It’s not like it’ll help on the mission, anyway. Losing you set us back at least a month.”

The mission. Taemin looks between Jongin and Jongdae hoping for an introduction but Jongin’s thoughts are preoccupied elsewhere. First, he wants to know why Jongdae is here. How Jongdae has reasoned with his morals to simultaneously help in the hunt of vampires but then lets them drink from him after hours. Maybe it’s not as black and white for everyone else as it has been for Jongin and Wonshik. He wonders what Kyungsoo is really like.

Then he remembers he’s here for a hit and amidst his questioning all he’s thinking about are Taemin, Jonghyun, and Kibum’s discoveries; Jongdae, Wonshik, and Kyungsoo’s well-being. “Jongdae,” Jongin says finally, “I need you to come with me.”

“He can’t come back with us,” Taemin’s still not sure what’s happening but he’s keyed into at least something.

“Taemin he can _help_ us.”

“Who is he?”

“A teammate, on the VSO. Taemin we can solve this if we let Jongdae in on what we know.”

Taemin feels defeated in his resolve; caught two against one in the face of Jongin’s eagerness and Jongdae’s bubbly confusion. “It’s getting late,” he starts slowly, “We can meet him outside the Seoul forest tomorrow night. We’ll bring our papers.”

“Jongdae can you meet us then?”

“I’ll be there. What about that hit?”

“Maybe next time,” Jongin smiles awkwardly. “Oh hey, and tell Kyungsoo something about it all being okay will you?”

Jongdae grins back, unphased at the loss since he's got a number of usual in his back pocket, ready for a bite. “You got it, boss.”

That next night Jongdae takes to their findings quickly, jots notes down and compares it with the files he’s been processing since Jongin’s death. He’s able to pinpoint two possible headquartering areas for Lee Joon faster than Jongin can even look through the new information.

“When I bring this back to Kyungsoo he’ll be thrilled,” Jongdae beams. “But how do I get him to coordinate around you guys?”

“Lure them,” Taemin replies. “Use your humanity to lure them out. We’ll finish it then.”

Jongin nods, “it's better if they don’t know any of _this._ ” He gestures around them.

 

“I won't say a word.”

 

✖️✖️✖️

 

Jongdae works magic at the VSO. Like clockwork, Wonshik arrives at the designated meeting spot with a young hunter Jongin doesn’t recognize. Kyungsoo is there too, and to Jongin’s surprise he sees Jongdae step out of the car after him, looking antsy as he clutches a stake at his side. “He’s looking for us,” Taemin whispers, “wish we could tell him it was alright.”

“You’re just back up,” Kyungsoo reassures Jongdae. “You won’t have to do anything with Wonshik and Sanghyuk here.”

Sanghyuk looks too young to be out in the field like this but his eyes burn with a fire Jongin has only ever seen in Wonshik. _You can’t train that kind of mentality,_ _he must have his own reasons for vengeance_ is Jongin’s assessment.

Jongin feels a tug on his shirt sleeve. “We need to fall back a bit. If they catch our scent they’ll never come out for the bait.” Jongin begrudgingly follows, though with Sanghyuk and Jongdae out there he doesn’t find comfort in traveling too far.

They split into two pairs, Kyungsoo and Jongdae stick by the patrol car while Wonshik and Sanghyuk make their way to the nearest bar. Time creeps by achingly slow and Jongin is growing antsy. He feels Taemin’s palm press against his shoulder blade, run down to the small of his back. He’s trying to soothe him. Jongin appreciates the gesture.

Amidst the partygoers and families hopping between bars and restaurants Jongin keys into what he thinks are Jongdae and Sanghyuk’s heartbeats. They’re faster than the ones around them. And by contrast, Wonshik and Kyungsoo’s are beating incredibly slowly. It’s a training method that Jongin remembers well and it gives him peace of mind knowing they're still safe (still _alive_ ). That knowledge keeps Jongin in place.

Hours pass before the first signs of vampire disturbance become known. It happens closer to Jongdae and Kyungsoo and Jongin grits his teeth to keep himself from jumping into the fray immediately. Taemin moves first, assessing the status of the vampires. He beckons Jongin over not too long after. They watch as the small batch surround Jongin’s former coworkers. Kyungsoo isn’t as obviously worried as Jongdae. The four vampires outnumber them but they’re young and sloppy. It’s their cocky attitudes that allow Jongdae to get the upper hand and take one of them out, Kyungsoo nabbing the second just in time for Wonshik and Sanghyuk to join.

“Who’s running this shithole operation,” Wonshik barks out, readying himself into an offensive stance.

“Watch your language _hunter_ , even if we told you it wouldn’t matter much.”

“Right, ‘cause I’m going to kick your fucking ass first.”

One of the two remaining Vamps starts after Wonshik in a rage when the other stops him. “Do you sense that?” She asks, her voice short and stern. “It’s an heir.”

The other stills, letting his eyes dart around. “It’s not any heir,” his lips split into a grin, “It’s Lee Taemin.”

“We should go,” Jongdae mutters behind him, trying to pull Kyungsoo and Sanghyuk back towards the car.

“Are you kidding me?” Wonshik snaps, “We can take out an _heir_.”

 

“This heir and our case are unrelated,” Jongdae’s tone is laced with that signature whine of his, one part sarcastic and one part attention grabbing. “They wouldn't be so shocked if they were working with the heir. Come _on_.”

 

Amidst the bickering Taemin slinks out of the shadows, strolls up to the rogue who called to him, and sends a fist straight into his jaw. “Where’s Joon,” he demands before throwing another punch.

 

He grabs at the jacket of the woman and tosses her towards the shadows, towards Jongin, where she shrieks as she's staked to ash. It startles the four hunters but Jongdae makes sure to keep them all in place. “Where is Lee Joon,” Taemin asks again, deflecting a weak attempt at a counterattack. He pins the rogue’s right arm behind his back and latches an arm around his neck. The vampire arches outwards in response to Taemin’s knee in his back and it isn't until Taemin’s eyes catch Kyungsoo’s that he realizes the heir is handing the creature over to him if he doesn't reply.

 

“I'm not telling you,” he snaps his fangs wildly, an intimidation tactic against the hunters and an attempt to snag Taemin’s arm and free himself from the hold. “You'll never-”

 

“Will you shut him up already?” A voice drawls from the shadows adjacent to where Jongin is lurking. Lee Joon saunters out into the lamp light, as if he’s reveling in the fact that _he_ is topic of the night. Taemin’s sure he is. He looks lazily between the hunters and brushes his long brown hair from his face when his gaze settles on Taemin. “It's been a moment, hasn't it Taemin?”

 

Taemin tosses the rogue forward, onto Kyungsoo’s readied stake, and turns his attention to Joon. “Not long enough.”

“Are you saying you're not a fan of my work? Pity. I guess Jinki always did raise them to be weak.”

 

“Jinki is a good man. You wouldn't know what that's like though, would you?”

 

“Jinki is a _weak man_ !” Lee Joon barks back. “And my work has shown that. Look at our _power_ Taemin,” he cracks the knuckles on his right hand, “look what we can do.” In a flash he is behind Wonshik, fingers gripping his leg until the hunter is howling over the snap of his knee. A blink of an eye later and Joon is back before Taemin. “Isn't it _amazing_? They have nothing on us.”

 

Sanghyuk leaps after Lee Joon, stake high and ready to get payback for Wonshik’s injury, but he's caught in the throat by the elder’s elbow and thrown to the ground with ease. “It's pathetic really when you look at it.”

 

Taemin has had enough. He throws his own weight towards Joon, elbow catching in the other’s chest. Through Taemin is younger his speed is unrivaled in all of the underground. And Joon is no exception.

 

Kyungsoo and Jongdae struggle to get Wonshik back onto his feet. He's dizzy with pain, well ready to vomit but not before channeling his anger towards the vampires scuffling before him. He reaches into his pocket, fingers gripping tight to the tiny silver pellets. With a grunt he hurls the lot towards Taemin. They catch him in the leg, hooks latching onto him and embedding the silver into his skin. He hisses, stronger than many lower ranking vampires but not impervious to the burning effects of the metal and drops to a knee, trying desperately to shake off the inhibitor before Joon can get the upper hand.

 

“You idiot!” Jongdae shrieks behind him, dragging a fighting Wonshik to the car. “Can't you tell an ally from an enemy or is your head too thick?!”

 

“Jongdae,” Kyungsoo snips, rather exasperated. He's never heard the other

talk so strongly. “Berate him later, come on…!” Eventually they get Wonshik strapped to the back seat, Jongdae beside him to keep any more stupid actions at bay while Kyungsoo monitors Sanghyuk in the passenger seat. He's begrudgingly driving from the scene of the case they've spent months on and lost men over solving. But something tells him it's better to leave it in the heir’s hands (and away from Wonshik’s temperament); behind him Jongdae agrees silently.

 

Jongin tugs his hood over his face. Even though he feels his friends’ rapid heartbeats growing more and more distant he can't will himself to take the risk of being noticed. Taemin is frantically swiping at the silver, simultaneously dodging Joon’s attempts to grab him. Jongin is awed at Taemin’s skill.

 

But he shakes his head out because now is no time for admiration. Jongin isn't anywhere near as speedy or graceful in his new form, but his hunter skills have stuck with him. His muscle memory launches him towards Joon, missing his target due to Joon’s swiftness, though getting him successfully away from Taemin. Jongin wheels back around on his heels and goes for another attack.

 

He can use less of his weaponry in his new state. No crosses, no silver. Even the wooden stake in his palm burns from its enchantments. Jongin still presses on. If anything he’s a distraction so Taemin can rid himself of Wonshik’s inhibitors.

 

“Do we stake him?” He asks gruffly, shoulder _nearly_ catching Joon though a quick jump has Jongin skidding towards the pavement instead.

 

“Do you think you can?” Joon laughs, “I’m not deaf, darling, should’ve done your plotting before coming to meet me.”

 

When Taemin straightens again three more rogues have come to Joon’s side. They’re not there as aids, however, and are quickly sent after human victims for the night. Taemin curses under his breath and yells, “Jongin, stop _that_ instead.”

 

Jongin’s tense at the idea of splitting from Taemin-- especially to go head first into an area rife with humans. Yet when he catches Taemin’s eyes he finds reassurance. Between the two of them Taemin knows this vampire thing better and Jongin… Jongin aches to trust him just as much as he had when they were first fooling around. Taemin said he'd take care of Jongin. Taemin best not be lying.

 

Jongin takes after the rogues and easily intercepts between them and their desired victims. He wishes he had a phone, knows Wonshik could take all of them out in a moment, but is also grateful that their lives don't have to be risked tonight. He groans when more appear around the ashes of their brethren. He hasn't exerted this much energy since the night he turned and while he's fed frequently it grows harder and harder to fight the urges when he smells blood everywhere. His assailants just want to drink too… With a yell he snaps back to his senses, catches a newly appeared rogue in the chest then sends another one back towards the shadows.

 

In the low glow of the oncoming dawn Jongin find himself growing weak. The sun is too warm and his body to exhausted from the fighting. Lee Joon has too many on his side. Jongin wishes they had at least Jonghyun and Kibum here; if not his hunter family. The remaining rogues retreat into the shadows, soft hisses from sun burns on their lips, but it doesn’t occur to Jongin to do the same. His 88 buzzes when he realizes he can’t feel Taemin anywhere near him. His mark is as anxious as he is while he steps into the waning shadows and slinks from building to building, hoping to find any sign of Taemin-- or even Lee Joon.

 

His hiding places are growing more sparse with each passing minute. As a human hunter Jongin used to swear the sun wouldn’t come fast enough to relieve him of his work. Now he feels as though he’s racing time; clinging to the remnants of shade before the sun starts to scorch his skin. It’s a heat unlike any other. Sharp and destructive, even though his right shoulder is the only part exposed. Jongin feels like fire will consume him if he waits any longer.

 

His steps only slow when a heartbeat reaches his ears. The pulse is sluggish, laden with exhaustion and the suppression of alcohol. She’s young, a year or two younger than Jongin himself, and simply left a party a little too late and a little too fucked. It shouldn’t mean much. Jongin understands the need to stay out until morning. But Jongin has stronger needs than that now. He craves sustenance; is desperate for anything to distract him from the burns across his skin and the emptiness in his stomach.

 

Dark eyes glaze over when he pins her to the wall. His hand silences her screams while he tries to get a handle on glamouring her. And when it fails he just sinks his teeth into her neck and drinks until he can’t drink anymore. She soon grows limp against him, her life giving way to Jongin’s thirst, then falls lifeless to the ground when Jongin lets her go and sinks to his knees in desperation. He lets out a shriek louder than the one he stole from her lungs-- a cry that calls Taemin to his side. The sun is too high for Taemin to waste any more time. If he takes longer even his skin will start to give underneath the light; and by that point Jongin will have burnt to a crisp.

 

He keeps his grip tight on Jongin, lest the blood-satiated manic take full control, and bites at the body a few times to cover up Jongin’s drain marks. As he disguises her death he drags her body just outside the dumpster, a limp trail of blood connecting her to her spot of death, and discards her in just the right way that Junmyeon’s men will surely find on their dawn rounds.

 

✖️✖️✖️

 

Ash-covered and exhausted, Taemin shoves forward through the twists and turns of the underground trail towards the Lee Clan dwellings. He has Jongin gripped tightly in tow, though careful not to jostle his burns. He’s still disoriented, gaze hazy with exhaustion from the early hours and stomach heavy with the blood he’s consumed. Part of him wants to snap at Taemin and feast further, another wants to collapse in the tunnel.

 

But Taemin keeps him too close and the touch is enough to inhibit what remains of his energy and start bringing him back to his senses. He slumps against Taemin’s shoulders when they burst into Jinki’s large office. Jongin has no clue where they are; Taemin has no idea what to expect.

 

Jinki’s face shifts from welcoming to stone-cold in calculation when Taemin appears before him with an unrecognizable vampire in tow. Except Jinki does recognize him. He’d be stupid not to know Kim Jongin.

“Taemin what is this?”

 

“We found him,” Taemin tries to divert the attention from Jongin, “We found Lee Joon. We know where he’s residing and what he’s doing.”

 

“What. Is. This?” Jinki repeats again, slower this time, punctuating each word.

 

Taemin’s composure falters just the slightest bit. “My kin,” he chooses as a response. “I needed him.”

 

“Your _kin_? You know the rules,” Jinki’s lips are pursed. Taemin is sure he hasn’t seen Lee Jinki this tense since the day he banished Lee Joon. The blonde starts to worry that maybe he’s next.

 

“I do,” Is all Taemin can find himself to say. “I do know the rules.” Because if it means death with Jongin, he’ll gladly take it.

 

Silence stretches on for a few long minutes. Taemin can’t glean the thoughts behind Jinki’s eyes and is sure that in contrast Jinki is reading Taemin like a book. “Taeyong will help take care of his burns,” He says finally.

 

Taemin’s shoulders slack when he (slightly hesitantly) passes Jongin to the pink haired squire. He gives him up reluctantly, watching closely as Jongin is taken from him. He knows his maker would never be the type to eradicate someone on the spot but… He hopes he hasn’t pushed Jinki far enough to surprise him.

 

He’s violated so many rules, both longstanding code and familial ties. He didn’t think he’d be granted pardon for his injustices-- not with the case still unsolved and a body lying in Jongin’s wake.

 

“Tell me about him,” Jinki demands coolly, gliding to his seat and beckoning Taemin to the one in front of him.

 

“I don’t know what to say, sire.”

 

“Surely that’s not the case. What does he mean to you?”

 

“He...saved me.”

 

Jinki’s eyes widen just the slightest bit. He’s calculating the meaning of Taemin’s words rather than asking him outright.

 

“Were you in trouble?” Jinki asks eventually, “Who was it threatening you?”

 

“Someone...only Jongin could conquer. And I know what it means to do what I’ve done. I know that it’s your decision but if you take him, you have to take me too.”

 

Jinki’s expression shifts then to something almost jovial. He laughs, loud and powerful, and shakes his head. “Take you? Take him? Taemin stop being so overdramatic. You’re like an angsty teen. I just wanted to know. Actions like this are unlike you.”

 

Taemin would feel offended if it didn’t mean Jongin is safe and sound as part of their clan. He gets to his feet at once and bows deeply. “Thank you. I won’t forget this.”

 

“And Taemin,” Jinki continues once Taemin’s eyes have met his again, “Talk to me before you need saving again.”

 

It really pays to be the favorite.

.

“Now, give me the details of Lee Joon.”

 

When Jinki learns of Jongdae he asks him to appear in their dwelling-- the first human to set foot in over two centuries.

 

Jongdae’s eyes glisten with intrigue as he looks between each aged furnishing. “I never would’ve imagined… It’s just like any home, but you know underground.” And he knows a lot more about vampire culture, code, and history than Jongin ever would’ve imagined. He stops by the clan frequently to update on reports and share stories with Jinki. An unlikely pairing, but the seem to be sharing a friendship deeper than Elder Lee Jinki has had in a long time. Or so Jongin learns secondhand from Taemin.

 

He’s still far too shaken from his kill to comfortably approach his human friend. Taemin debated filling in the holes of Jongin’s blood thirsty blackout until he recognized that the more secrets kept from Jongin the more he’d hurt him in the past. It pains him to break it to him but he does so as gently as possible, and forces Jongin to keep at his side despite his terrified guilt.

 

Jongin feels like he’s given up on the last of his humanity. Something he wasn’t clinging to too desperately after his turning, sure, but was still important to keeping himself grounded. “If I’ve done it once, I’ll do it again,” he panics in front of Taemin one night when he can smell Jongdae’s blood (fresh and warm) all the way in Jinki’s study. “I’ll do it now.”

 

“No you won’t,” Taemin corrects. He presses his fingers to Jongin’s collar, traces around the 88, and shushes him gently. “You’re okay Jongin. You’re. Okay.”

 

In the first time in what’s felt like forever for the both of them Jongin closes the space between them and wraps himself in Taemin’s arms. Sober and rooted in reality. Even that night when he called Taemin over in desperation, wrought with frustrations at Chanyeol’s death and Sehun’s misunderstandings, he was never this vulnerable. He lets Taemin’s fingers find their way into his dark hair and play with the strands. He finds comfort in the stillness of Taemin’s chest, no need for air for either of them, and slips his eyes shut.

 

“You’re okay,” Taemin repeats.

 

No, Jongin wants to say. But also yes. He’s okay because Jongin didn’t leave Taemin alone on that bridge. He’s okay because Taemin’s intelligence kept the mission from falling to shreds. If it weren’t them, the former hunter is sure that Kyungsoo and Wonshik would’ve fallen victims soon after himself. A martyr to his core, Jongin is still grateful that it was him instead. And, truthfully, he’s grateful to not truly be _dead_. He’s okay because while he was reckless, he wasn’t ready to die.

 

He’s okay because Taemin’s here, by his side, comforting Jongin in a way only he knows how. It’s still Taemin. It’s always Taemin-- his one constant. The one who, despite it all, Jongin found himself falling in love with. Despite his best attempts, Jongin still hasn’t shaken those feelings.

 

✖️✖️✖️

 

It’s approaching sundown on September 13th when Sehun gathers everyone together for Chanyeol’s wake. Kyungsoo and Wonshik stand solemnly beside one another, eyes low and puffy. Chanyeol’s sister clutches her newborn to her chest and tells him tales of his late uncle that he can’t understand yet. They share in a few prayers, a few words of affection, and an added expression of hope that Jongin has found him up in heaven.

Sehun is the last one standing, well into the night and armed with a repellant charm from Kyungsoo just in case. “I knew we’d be the last two tonight,” he says softly, slowly turning towards the small forest that walls in the cemetery. His eyes focus on the darkness, but Jongin, somewhat startled, knows he’s staring straight at him. “Thank you for coming tonight.”

 

He sits still for a while, watching Sehun’s back grow further and further from Chanyeol’s grave. _‘How?’_ He thinks as if he doesn’t know the answer. This is Sehun after all. His best friend through everything. If anyone had faith in Jongin (through the reckless partying, the drug use, the life-endangering “day” job) it was Sehun. He feels warm at the thought. Sehun hasn’t given up on him yet. It’s now, with confidence, that Jongin can say he hasn’t given up on himself either.

Taemin gives Jongin’s hand a squeeze. “Let’s go.”

 

Together they walk Sehun home. Then, together, they head out back into the night.  


End file.
